The Sweetest Peach
by fifflesgiggles
Summary: After losing her father and her farm, Eleanor Whitford, best known as Ellie, goes looking for help from the Bondurant brothers. They will save her in more ways than one. Forrest/OC, rated M for about everything under the sun : violence, rape, lustiness, language, loss of child.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

A rickety truck rumbles down a dirt road, kicking up dust and pebbles as it moves. It takes a turn at the little wooden sign before ambling down the drive, a sign that everyone in Franklin county knows: _The Sweetest Peaches in Virginia_.

A petite blonde sits on the porch, grinning as the truck comes into view. She's barely fifteen, but she is the envy of the county for her beauty and grace. Even without a mother, she's growing into a proper young woman. The blue of her simple dress sets off the blue of her eyes, the shape complimenting her figure. The truck comes to a halt, causing the girl to stand from her rocking chair, raising a hand in welcome as she smiles.

"Why if it ain't the misters Bondurant," she says with a laugh as the youngest and eldest brothers hop out of the truck. The middle brother stays put, as he always does, puffing on a cigar as he surveys the farm.

"And why if it ain't the sweetest peach in Franklin," the youngest calls back as he chuckles, causing the blonde to blush. He climbs the steps to give her hand a kiss, an innocent smile on his face.

"You're too kind, Jack Bondurant."

He removes the hat from his head, giving her a little bow of his head. "Just telling the truth, Miss Ellie."

"Where's your pa?" Howard's voice calls out from the back of the truck, crate of white lightning in his hands. Jack looks between his brother and the girl, obviously wondering if he should stay put or help.

"Tending the horses in the barn. He's expecting ya."

Howard grumbles and nods, making his way around the porch to the barn with peeling red paint. Jack visibly relaxes when he sees he's not needed.

"Now, Miss Ellie, you wouldn't happen to have any of that fine peach cobbler you make, would you?"

"Jack." His other brother's voice is raised in warning.

"Let me go check," Ellie responds with an indulgent smile, heading into the house. The screen door slams, Jack playing with his hat as he waits, shuffling his feet against the stairs.

"She ain't got enough to worry about without feeding you some pie?" His voice is barely a grumble, but it carries a weight to it that makes it impossible to ignore.

"Now Forrest, you know Ellie always makes us some cobbler."

"Because she knows you're expecting it."

"But Miss Ellie-"

"Miss Ellie what, Jack?" She's returned, cobbler in hand, ready to hand it over to the brothers that she can't help but adore. Their legend is well known, the brothers almost larger than life, but they're still good people, as her father would say. The scent of the dessert is sweet, sending Jack's mouth watering and even causing Forrest to toss his cigar out the window so he can try to catch a whiff.

"Makes the best cobbler in all of Virginia," Jack says with a smile as he unloads the dessert from her hands. "Smells even better than last time, I think."

"You say that every time, Jack Bondurant." She can't help but look over to the silent brother as Howard comes into view, hands empty and walking with determination. "See you boys in a couple of weeks."

Forrest gives her a small nod as Jack hands him the pie through the window, a thank you is how she thinks of it. The two brothers climb back into their vehicle, Howard crowing his appreciation as they leave.


	2. Chapter 2

_Six years later._

Hunger gnawing at her stomach, she stands in front of Blackwater station, trying to gather her courage. She doesn't want to ask for help, hates the very idea of it, but she's desperate. A couple of days without food will do that to a girl.

Eleanor Whitford had always prided herself on her appearance. Just because she grew up without a mother didn't mean she had to look like it. But now it's apparent that she is starting to come apart at the seams. Her dress has dirt smudges here and there, her hair not as precise as usual, her shoes scuffed.

She hides her luggage, her last belongings on earth, at the side of the station. If all goes well, she'll retrieve it later. If it doesn't ... well, she doesn't want to think about what will happen if it doesn't. She can't help but feel that the Bondurants are her last hope. Squaring her shoulders, she marches up the stairs, doing her best to walk confidently into the station.

"Miss Ellie!"

She can't help but smile at Jack, his perpetually good mood infectious despite her current situation. "Hi Jack."

"What are you doing here at Blackwater? How are you? You had breakfast yet?"

Ellie chuckles at all of the questions and shakes her head, though inside she's panicking. She has no money to pay for any food he's offering. "I haven't, but that's alright, I don't want to impose. I'll-"

"Nonsense. After all those cobblers you made for us? I insist, Miss Ellie. It's on the house."

"We'll, alright Jack. Nothing too fancy, though."

Jack moves behind the counter, gathering a couple pans to heat before grabbing some eggs and bacon from the back. Soon the station is filled with the sounds and smells of a good meal. Satisfied with the food's progress, Jack turns back to face her again, his usual smile replaced with a serious look. "I was sorry to hear about your pa, Ellie."

She nods and turns away, not wanting to meet Jack's eyes, afraid to cry in front of him. Forrest is leaning out of his office, his face unreadable, though he gives her a nod of acknowledgement before disappearing. He's the one she'll need to talk to, she knows. But she's not quite ready, not yet.

Ellie turns back to Jack with a sigh, taking a few deep breaths before finally answering him. "Thanks, Jack."

"He was a good man."

Ellie looks down again, nodding, fingers tracing patterns against the wood of the bar. She could feel the weight of Jack's stare as he watches her. A whiff of breakfast reaches her nose and she can't help but smile. "Your eggs are burning, Jack."

"Oh, shit!" he mutters, turning away from her and frantically moving the eggs around in the pan. "Sorry! My language-"

"Gets you in trouble even at the best of times, Jack Bondurant. Here." Ellie gets up from her seat, gliding around the bar to join Jack at the stove, helping him salvage what's left of her breakfast. Really, she's just grateful. Grateful for the subject change, grateful for the promise of food, even if it may be a little burnt.

"Sorry, Miss Ellie. I've been trying to keep up since Maggie left, but I'm not meant for kitchen work."

"Ain't that an understatement." Forrest's voice makes her jump, her nerves kicking up again as she turns to look at him, but he's focused on Jack. He takes his hat off and places it on the bar before sitting down. Ellie can't help but notice how deliberate every motion he makes is. "We got a few runs to make, go load up the truck, then find Howard."

"But Miss Ellie's breakfast-"

"Is done cooking. I need to talk to her anyway, now get."

Jack shoots her an apologetic look before marching out the back door. Ellie takes her time locating a plate and some silverware, feeling Forrest's eyes on her as she moves. She doesn't want to rush, because she has a feeling the time is coming for her to swallow her pride and ask for help. Too soon, food is on her plate and she's on the other side of the bar, seated next to Forrest as he continues to stare at her. While it may have normally made her feel uncomfortable, today she is too thankful, too involved in eating, finally eating, to care. The food is hot and it burns her throat on the way down, tasting a slight char as it goes. And as much as she tries to take her time and eat like a lady, she can't.

He waits for her to finish her plate before he finally speaks, his voice quiet. "I heard about the farm."

Again, she has to consciously stop herself from crying, digging her fingernails into her palms to focus on something, anything else. It's all too raw, too much to think about. First her father, then her home. She doesn't trust herself to speak, so instead she just nods, keeping her eyes down so that she doesn't have to look at Forrest.

"You need help." It's not a question, but a statement of fact. In that moment, Ellie feels relief. He knows. He knows, and he won't make her beg for his assistance. She nods again. "Well, I reckon Jack is right, he's not cut out for kitchen work. None of us are. We could use your help."

Ellie can't stop the tears from falling now, finally looking at him. He is remarkably still, stoic as ever, but his gaze is softer than she's ever seen it. It is what she had been hoping and praying for, but the reality is overwhelming. "Forrest, I-"

He holds up his hand, silencing her before she can start gushing, obviously starting to feel some discomfort over the situation. "You got a place to stay?"

"I, I can't afford one, not yet," she stutters, blushing over her admission.

"You can take the spare room upstairs until then." He stands, taking his hat off the bar and placing it on his head.

Before she can stop herself, Ellie stands from her chair and launches herself at Forrest, throwing her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. She can feel him tense under her touch, but she is too caught up in the moment to care about his discomfort. "Thank you, Forrest. Thank you."

He pats her back awkwardly before she finally releases him, giving her a little nod and a grunt before leaving her to tend the station.


	3. Chapter 3

The station is quiet after the boys are gone, peaceful but empty. Ellie feels like she can finally breathe after Forrest leaves. Relief and gratitude wash over her, lifting the weight that's been heavy on her chest since she had to pack her things as the bank took the house. She misses her father, misses her home, but hope has wormed its way back into her heart.

She waits a few minutes before grabbing her suitcase from outside, taking note of the wildflowers dotting the field next to the station. She'll pick some later, she decides, to try to brighten up her room and make it feel like home. Her father had sometimes come in from the orchards for dinner, smelling of hard work, with flowers in his hand. "Just to see you smile," he used to say. The thought brings tears to her eyes as she climbs the steps and makes her way to the second floor of the station. She shakes them off, determined not to cry anymore today.

She accidentally opens the door to what must be Forrest's room first. It's spartan, to say the least. Just a mattress on the floor with a mess of blankets and a worn dresser in the corner, no adornments or knickknacks to be seen. It doesn't surprise her, it is Forrest, after all.

The next door she opens is to a small bathroom, complete with a bathtub that looks too small for Forrest, but certainly big enough for her. Her reflection causes her to stop and stare, rubbing her eyes in frustration; she looks a mess. She tries to smooth her hair, even pinches her cheeks to bring some color into her face. It doesn't satisfy her, but it seems to help a little.

The final door finally reveals itself as what must be the spare room. The bed is neatly made, a desk in the corner and a small set of drawers. A few months ago, she may have turned her nose up at such a tiny room. Now, she knows better. Appreciation washes over her again as she surveys her new home.

She lays open the suitcase on the bed, unpacking her one picture frame first. It's the only photograph she's ever seen of her mother, but it gives her strength. Her father's arms are wrapped around her, both of them smiling. Her father looks open and honest, same as she always knew. But her mother's smile is something else: secretive and playful, like she knows something that you're just dying to know.

Before she can attend to her clothes, a bell rings downstairs. "Miss you," she whispers to the picture, before closing the door and hurrying off to attend to a customer.

* * *

The morning isn't too busy, something for which Ellie is grateful. She takes time between customers to familiarize herself with the Blackwater kitchen and pantry, going through her mental roster of recipes and figuring out what she can make with what's on hand. By the time the boys return, she has some jam simmering on the stove for morning biscuits, greens and bacon in a skillet, and some Crisco in another, melting down to fry chicken once it comes to temperature. She has some potatoes cooling, just waiting for some of the mayonnaise she made earlier.

"Smells good, Miss Ellie!" Jack calls out to her as he enters, stomping through the station. "Looks like you've been busy."

She blushes as she continues to attend to the stove, stirring the greens silently. _Forrest must have told them_, she muses. Yet another thing she's thankful for. She's not sure she could have been the one to announce her employment and boarding to the other brothers. "Go wash up, Jack, I'll get the chicken going and lunch will be ready in just a bit."

He joins her behind the bar, giving her a start when she feels his chin on her shoulder. Even above the smells of the cooking food, she can smell him. And it's not pleasant. "You stink, Jack Bondurant. Go clean up before I pass out and can't fix your lunch." She swats at him until he finally moves, an unapologetic grin on his face.

Her focus back on the food is quickly interrupted again as Forrest comes up beside her, placing a half bushel of peaches on the counter next to her. He doesn't speak for a few minutes, just watches as she starts to fry the chicken. She can smell him too, now, though he smells nothing like Jack. It's a smell that she associates with her father, of hard work and sweat, and a lingering hint of tobacco. That coupled with the peaches makes her heart twist, and she hates it. She has always been strong, and proud. Now, even the simplest things remind her of what she's lost. Yet again, she has to fight off tears.

"Finding everything okay?" His voice is low, but firm, and she's happy when he finally speaks. He's close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off of him. Then again, it may just be the stove.

"Yes, thank you Forrest."

"Smells good," he mutters as he walks away, Ellie letting out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding as he goes.

* * *

Forrest is smoking on the porch as she makes her way back in from picking flowers. The station is closed and quiet, peaceful. Ellie can't help but feel a little embarrassed, like Forrest may consider picking some wildflowers childish. She knows he's watching her as she makes her way back inside, filling a spare mason jar and bringing it up to her room. Briefly, she considers staying there, curling up into a ball on the bed and trying to sleep before her emotions catch up to her. But she feels like she shouldn't, and instead makes her way back outside to sit with Forrest.

She heaves herself into the chair next to him with a quiet sigh. It's dark, the only light offered is from the Forrest's cigar each time he inhales. So she doesn't realize that he's pushed a jar full of liquid her way at first. Once she does, she stares at it for a while, debating, before finally deciding to take her first sip of alcohol.

It burns on the way down, and it's so surprising, she starts to spit and choke. She swears she can hear him chuckle next to her, but he's so quiet that she's not sure. "How, on God's green earth, does anyone drink this regularly?" she sputters as the fire makes its way down to her stomach.

"Give it a minute, Ell."

The taste of apples hits her throat with notes of cinnamon. Slowly, warmth starts to radiate through her, from the inside out. She feels ignited, and she's sure her face is red as the liquor courses its way through her body. It's caused by the applejack, of that she has no doubt, but her heart flutters a bit at the fact that Forrest just called her Ell.

"Better?"

She responds to his question by taking another sip of liquor, and this time she's sure that he's laughing under his breath. The alcohol is much easier to take the second time around, but she still pushes the jar back to him, not trusting herself to have anymore.

He takes it back from her, slipping a lid on and twisting the cap. They sit there silently for a while, just taking in the sounds of nature surrounding them. The longer they sit, the better she feels. Not just from the liquor, but from Forrest's presence. He is the stability in her small world right now, she realizes. She had always been curious about the quiet Bondurant, she muses. Howard is impish and funny, Jack sincere and sweet, but Forrest has always been something else entirely.

"You did good today." It sounds like it takes him some effort to say it, like heaping out praise is tough for him. She can believe it. "Why don't you head up to bed, get some rest." It's not a question or a suggestion, she realizes, but a quiet command. While he may have enjoyed her company thus far, he apparently wants some solitude now.

"Good night then, Forrest." Emboldened by the alcohol and before she can stop herself, she leans over to kiss him lightly on the temple. "Thank you, again." At that, she takes her leave, blushing furiously as she makes her way upstairs.

It's the first night she dreams of him.

* * *

_Forrest stays out at least an hour after she leaves him, sipping on moonshine and watching the dark, his mind mostly quiet. He's glad she came to him for help, and he's happy he was able to provide it. She reminds him of his sisters, before the flu took them. Passionate, generous, playful at times. Stubborn and proud at others._

_He puts out his cigar before making his way inside, locking the station up behind him as he goes. He takes care to tread lightly on the stairs, or as lightly as he can, lest he wake her._

_"Forrest."_

_Her voice is low and husky, the sound freezing him in place. Did he wake her despite his best efforts?_

_"Please?"_

_The whine in that one word pulls him towards her door without conscious thought, suddenly drawn to her. He can't help looking into her room. He can't see much, though the moonlight filtering through the window shows him all he needs to know._

_The first thing he sees is the creamy expanse of her thigh, peeking out of her slip, moving and dancing to some unknown music. She's writhing, he realizes. Ellie whispers his name again, and he's frozen in place, watching as she wiggles and moves on the bed, moaning as her hand slowly makes its way between her legs. He's torn between being a gentleman and walking away, and being a peeping tom and watching the effect he didn't know he had on her. A surprised gasp escapes her lips, her breath hitching in her throat._

_The gentlemanly side of him wins out. Reluctantly, he turns away and goes to his room, laying in his own bed without undressing and staring up at the ceiling. He swears he can still hear her panting from across the hall and has to fight the urgings of his own body. And now he knows, beyond any shadow of doubt, any likeness Eleanor Whitford may have had to his sisters is now long gone._


	4. Chapter 4

Ellie wakes the next morning feeling anxious, on edge, and can't for the life of her understand why. She is still in a strange place, but one she knows will feel like home the longer she stays. It's not her father, or missing her farm, or anything else she can really think of. Except maybe the applejack, but she didn't have much the night before. Without knowing the why, she certainly knows the how she will overcome it. Only one thing settles her when she's feeling this way: baking.

She quietly dresses and makes herself presentable to the world. After retrieving her mother's old recipe box, she tiptoes downstairs, not wanting to wake Forrest.

The sun's rays are just starting to filter through the main floor of the station, sending shadows in odd places and certainly not helping her unsettled nerves. She flips through her mother's recipe cards as the oven heats and some coffee brews, her fingers trailing over the handwriting like somehow it will connect the two of them.

The biscuit recipe she knows by heart, having made them daily for her father since she was nine. The motions as she kneads the dough alone are therapeutic, something familiar when most things in her world now aren't. Forrest comes down the stairs as she's cutting the biscuits, sitting at the bar and silently watching her work after pouring himself some coffee.

After putting the biscuits in the oven, Ellie stands and brushes some hair out of her face, letting out a sigh. She's starting to feel better, though it bothers her that she still can't place the source of her earlier anxiousness. "Morning, Forrest."

He won't meet her eyes as he grunts in response, retreating to his office and leaving Ellie a new feeling of uneasiness._Maybe he's just not a morning person_, she muses before turning to the stove to work on some more breakfast.

But as the day passes, the odd feeling persists and grows. He stays in his office all morning, and won't meet her eyes when she brings him a plate for breakfast. Same with lunch. She joins him on the porch in the afternoon, peeling the peaches he brought her the previous day to prepare for a cobbler for dinner. Forrest is usually silent, she knows, but the quiet that envelops them is uncomfortable. Any attempt at conversation dies on her lips before it can be spoken.

Jack and Howard join them at dinner, helping to lighten the burden that's settled on her throughout the day. They are loud and boisterous, making her laugh as they eat. The only hint that Forrest is even paying attention to her comes at dessert as they're eating her cobbler. She can feel some of the juices run down her chin after her first bite. She uses her thumb to wipe it off before slowly licking the sweetness off her finger. Ellie looks up to meet Forrest's eyes. He is watching her, the thought making her stomach contract. He stands from the table, mumbling something incoherent to his brothers before taking his leave out on the porch.

"Not sure what's got his panties in a bunch," Howard comments once Forrest is gone, pushing his chair away from the table and lacing his fingers over his stomach with a satisfied sigh. "Dinner was great again, Ellie, thank you kindly."

"I did miss your cobbler, little peach," Jack tells her with a smile, echoing his brother's movements as he leans back in his chair. "Just as good as I remembered. Glad Forrest thought to grab some peaches yesterday."

The thought causes her pulse to race just a little. Ellie stands and starts clearing the table, suddenly needing something to keep her hands occupied. "Oh?" she replies, curious.

"Well, yes, Miss Ellie. We were passing by your farm and he had me stop so we could grab some fruit for you, thought you might like it."

She's glad for the excuse to have her back to the brothers as she dumps their dishes into the sink, because she knows she's blushing. The idea that Forrest thought of her, procured the peaches just for her, warms her insides. But that was yesterday. The Forrest of today was certainly much different, and she wants to know why. Was it something she did, something she said?

Howard leaves shortly afterwards, moonshine in hand and impish grin on his face as he tells her goodnight. Jack insists on helping her with dishes, despite her best efforts to dissuade him. He goes off not much later, leaving Ellie to finish cleaning the station to prepare for another day tomorrow.

She scrubs, little grunts of effort escaping her lips as she cleans. Her nerves have been chasing her around all day, and she's starting to understand that Forrest is the reason for that. He hasn't so much as acknowledged her all day, and for whatever reason, that starts to turn her anxiety into anger. Once the kitchen is finally clean enough to her liking, she storms out onto the porch, ready to get to the bottom of whatever caused his behavior today.

All her fire sputters out as soon as she sees him, though, sitting calmly as he puffs on his cigar and sips from his jar of moonshine. Despite how he's treated her today, he helped her, saved her. What right does she have to be angry at him?

"Come sit," he finally says after she stands there watching him for some unknown amount of time. He sounds resigned.

Ellie obeys, taking her seat next to him. She eyes the little table between the chairs, licking her lips in anticipation of some more applejack. She quite likes it, she's decided. And she wants more.

But he offers her none. The longer they sit in silence, the more her anger starts to build again. Deciding it's best to say something rather than nothing at all, lest it drive her crazy, she finally speaks. "Did I do something wrong, Forrest?"

He looks over to her again, like he's truly seeing her for the first time today. His eyes are hard at first, but they soften as she meets his glare head on, not backing down. "No, Ell, you did nothing wrong," he finally replies with a sigh.

It feels as if a weight has been lifted off of her chest, the tension between them suddenly lifted. Why it had been there in the first place, she doesn't know. But she is certainly grateful that it is gone. The sound of a jar scraping along the top of the table is a welcome one. She unscrews the lid and takes a long swig before realizing that it's not apple brandy, this time, but the white lightning.

"Shit," she sputters out as the liquor burns its way into her stomach, feeling like an absolute fool. "Sorry, just, you could have warned a girl."

He chuckles next to her, shaking his head as he takes the jar back from her and takes his own sip before leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

Ellie takes the opportunity to study him, the full pout of his lips, his strong jawline, the scar running across his throat. She has to stop herself from reaching out and running her fingers along it, curious about how it would feel beneath them. She had always thought him handsome, and somehow his scar adds to that. Maybe he is indestructible.

She feels tied to him now. The thought brings her up short, but she knows it to be true. She will always care for this man that saved her, and care about what he thinks of her. That was why she felt so unsettled today, she realizes. His strange behavior had affected her own mood. Though it doesn't explain why she woke feeling the way she did in the first place.

"What are you looking at, Ell?" he murmurs without opening his eyes, raising the cigar to his lips.

"Nothing, sorry Forrest," she replies while reluctantly taking her eyes off of him, taking another sip of liquor as she looks out onto the parking lot. When she feels it safe, she turns to watch him again, though his eyes are open this time and meets her gaze with the hint of a smirk on his lips. Blushing furiously, she looks away yet again.

"Why don't you head up to bed, get some rest," he says a while later, that same tone in his voice as the previous night. It's not a suggestion.

She stands to leave but tonight she is a little unsteady on her feet. Forrest stands to grab her upper arm before she can trip and fall. His touch is like fire and lightning, incredibly warm and sending unfamiliar feelings shooting over her skin. She sucks in a surprising breath at his touch. He holds onto her for a moment longer than necessary, before releasing his grip and sitting back down. Ellie goes inside, unable to stop herself from trailing her fingers across her arm where he touched her as she moves. Things were getting complicated, and fast.

* * *

Did I do something wrong, Forrest?

_The question chases its way through his brain long after she has gone to bed._

_It certainly hadn't been her fault that he intruded on her dream the night before. Or that he found it difficult to look at her now without picturing her writhing in the bed, his name on her lips. That was why he had trouble meeting her eye today, speaking with her. She had certainly done nothing wrong. Though she was making it difficult not to care for her more than he knew he should. But keeping her off his mind after witnessing her desires was nearly impossible._

_And now he had gone and let her drink again. He hadn't intended on it, figuring her unintentional show the night before had been egged on by the applejack. Forrest couldn't help but wonder what he would find tonight when he went upstairs after she had some moonshine._

_He puts out his cigar, hoping that by going to bed earlier tonight that she may still be awake once he makes his way upstairs. Forrest isn't even halfway up the stairs before he can hear her moans. "Shit," he mutters, his body reacting to her noises as he moves quietly._

_Compelled by his name on her lips, he peeks in on her again. She is under the blanket, on her back, but he can see her legs are spread as her arm moves between her thighs. He can hear his own heavy breathing between her whines, and he has to grip the door frame to stop his body from propelling him forward and into her room. Ellie cries out his name again suddenly, her shoulders still on the bed as her chest lifts, writhing as she rides the storm that has so obviously wracked her body. She starts shaking slightly as she lets out a long breath._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N : Just wanted to thank everyone for the reviews and kind words, they make my little author's world go round.**

* * *

The days blend together as Ellie settles into her new life at Blackwater station. Cooking and baking turn into their own form of therapy as she slowly starts to accept her father's death and the loss of her childhood home. She feels as if she has found her place in the world. Her days are filled with food and customers and smiles, reminding her of the simple joy of taking care of people, even for the short time they are at the station. Jack and Howard are bright spots as well, and she comes to start thinking of them as the brothers that she never had.

Her nights spent on the porch with Forrest are her favorite part of her new life with the Bondurants. They rarely speak, sharing liquor as they watch the night and relax. When he starts coming inside at the same time as her, she takes it as a compliment, that he doesn't feel the need for solitude and time away from her at the end of the day.

She begins to feel happiness for the first time since her father died.

Most customers know her, know of her previous plight, expressing their sincere condolences for both her father and her farm. Each time she hears it, it becomes a little easier not to fall apart, not to succumb to tears.

The only complaint she has is when those from town come to watch her, feeling as if the proud young girl she once was has fallen from her pedestal and they all want to watch her tumble. They watch her with smug looks, happy to see her lowering herself to kitchen work, feeling as if she is finally getting to experience the hard life that they have grown up with. Forrest helps keep their feelings from being vocalized, usually working his books in the dining room as she tends to the customers. But she knows. She sees their sick smiles, and she knows that they are deriving pleasure from her pain. A part of her feels like she deserves it, she knows she lived a relatively easy life with her father. But mostly, it angers her. She hides it behind a smile just the same.

About a month after she has started her work at the station, she is working alone one afternoon when _he_ walks in. There are no other customers, the brothers are off running their other, less legitimate business.

"Why if it isn't the sweetest peach in Franklin."

His voice sends shivers down her spine as she turns away from the stove and faces James McCall. His hair is slicked back, his grin evil as he takes her in, unabashedly looking her up and down. She has to fight off a disgusted shudder and tries to ignore the feeling now crawling over her skin. "What can I get you, James?"

"Oh how the mighty have fallen," he replies back with a smirk. She wants to reach across the bar that separates them and slap him, but restrains herself.

She ignores him and tries to do her job instead. "Coffee? A bite to eat?"

"When I heard you was working for the Bondurants, I just had to come see for myself." He moves around the bar slowly as he speaks, making her feel as if he is a predator stalking his prey.

Ellie can't believe he had ever courted her, the thought making her sick as she watches his evil smile spread across his face. They had even been friends, once. But everything had changed for the young McCall since he lost his sister. He had never been quite right again since the funeral. His cruel nature had started to leak through the cracks, and she stopped seeing him. In fact, Ellie hasn't seen James for at least a year.

Her pulse starts racing as genuine fear takes hold of her. He hasn't done anything, not yet, but his smile is disturbing and it's not sitting right with her. "Please leave, James," she mumbles as she starts to back away from him. She's not sure if she will get in trouble for turning away a customer, but she would much rather suffer Forrest's wrath than spend another moment with James.

"I don't think I will," he drawls. "Why didn't you come to me for help, Ellie?"

"You know why."

"After everything, you still think you're too good for me?"

She wants to spit at him, his words so ludicrous that it makes her suddenly angry. Ellie stands her ground as she stares at him. "I never thought I was too good for you. I just don't particularly care for boys who try to take what they want by force."

"And the Bondurants don't?"

"Not from a woman." The one night before they had parted ways for good burns its way through her mind. The barn, the thought of what might have happened if her father hadn't decided to retrieve a jar of liquor at just the right time. It all settles into her stomach and she feels like shes going to be sick. "Please leave, James."

"Not until I get what I came for." He closes the space between them so quickly that she doesn't have time to try to move away, his lips roughly taking hers. Ellie uses all the strength she has to try to push him off of her. When that fails, she stomps on his foot and starts to run to the front door as he releases her with a howl.

He grabs her by the hair before she can get out of reach, fisting his hand into her locks as she cries out at the pain, dragging her body against his. She freezes when she feels metal pressing against her throat, the knife piercing her skin. Blood starts to trickle down her throat so she doesn't move, just starts to silently cry as James' hands start to move up and down her body under her dress.

_Please come home, Forrest, please save me_, she silently prays. _Mom, dad, please send help. Please don't let this happen._

He maneuvers her body against the bar, knife on her neck as motivation to follow his silent commands. She can hear his buckle ring out as he pushes down his pants with one hand. And then shoving her panties down before violently pushing into her sex, the pain causing her to cry out for the one person that may still be able to help her. "Forrest!"

The knife stays at her throat as he starts to move behind her, sawing into her throat a little deeper with each thrust, her blood going from a trickle to a steady stream. "He's down at the stills, he's not going to save you today, little peach. Scream for him all you want. He shoulda never left you alone."

It feels like hours as she stands there being violated, crying and shaking and whimpering, a pain she has never known rending her in two. James finishes behind her with a shudder, finally letting the knife off her throat as he steps back and sets his pants right.

She doesn't move, just stays leaning against the bar sobbing, mourning everything that has just been taken from her.

"Look at me, Ellie." His voice is oddly calm considering what he has just done to her. She doesn't turn to him, too paralyzed by all the emotions and hurt that are flooding through her. "Look at me!" he screams, sounding unhinged.

Ellie reluctantly turns, not wanting him to take his wrath out on her again. "Why?" she cries as she meets his gaze. "Why would you do this to me?"

"Why not?" She doesn't see his fist, but she certainly feels it as it connects with her face, sending her to the floor with its force. Consciousness starts to leave her.

"Ain't that just like a peach, to bruise so easy," he whispers as he kneels next to her, his fingers exploring his handiwork on her eye.

"Please," she begs. He punches her again and everything goes dark.

* * *

_"Forrest! Come quick, it's Ellie!"_

_Jack's words send a genuine fear through him, causing him to quickly abandon the shed to run inside the station. His brother is kneeling over Ellie's body, a towel held against her neck as he tries to rouse her. Forrest doesn't think, just scoops her little body into his arms and carries her to the truck. She's so fragile and tiny in his arms, the sudden protectiveness he feels for her almost making him choke. She stirs a bit as he moves, a pained moan escaping her lips as he takes in the bruising on her face, the cut to her throat. "Jesus," he mutters, quickening his pace. "Hang in there, Ell."_


	6. Chapter 6

Ellie wakes in an unfamiliar room, disoriented. The pain hits her as she sits up, causing her to cry out. Her face, her neck, her most private parts are all aching and throbbing as she gasps, panic racing through her veins.

"Relax, Ell." Forrest's voice causes her to still. "You're safe."

And suddenly she's sobbing, gasping for breath as the memories wash over her. She falls back onto the pillow, hiding her face in her hands. She doesn't want him to see her like this, weak and vulnerable and suffering. The bed dips as he sits next to her, quietly pulling her into his arms and against his chest. He says nothing, there's truly nothing that can be said in that moment, and for that she is grateful. Instead, he strokes her hair as she continues to weep.

Consciousness starts to leave her again, Forrest laying her back down as she falls asleep again.

* * *

_He watches her sleep, tossing and turning as some inner demons torture her._

_"Who did this to you?" he wants to yell at her, the fury making his blood boil, his hands fist. He wants to know, because he wants to pay them back tenfold. He wants to remind the world of what happens when you mess with the Bondurants._

_Ellie is one of them now in everything but name. And whoever hurt her will pay dearly for it._

* * *

Ellie wakes late that night with a startled gasp. She grasps at her neck, half-expecting to find a knife there once more, but her fingers only meet bandages.

"Easy, Ell," Forrest whispers before pulling her hands away. He moves to sit next to her on the bed. The light is dim in the hospital room, but she can see his jaw working as he clenches and unclenches his teeth. Anger is rolling off of him in waves. "Who was it?"

His voice is low and rough, sending an involuntary shudder through her body. She doesn't want to look at Forrest then, she feels too ashamed, so she hides her face in her hands, shaking her head.

His fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands away and pins them on the bed, leaving her nowhere to hide. His touch is firm, yet still gentle. Ellie closes her eyes, not wanting to look at him. She doesn't want him to see the truth, that she's lying to him.

"Look at me, Ell."

Reluctantly, slowly, she opens her eyes. His gaze is hard, furious. Not at her, she knows, but at the unnamed man who had done this to her. For reasons unknown, she shakes her head.

"You didn't know him?"

Why is she not screaming his name? James deserves any punishment inflicted upon him by the brothers, perhaps even more. But she keeps quiet, feeling as if he is her problem, not theirs. So she shakes her head again.

Forrest moves off of the edge of the bed, releasing her wrists. "I'll find him, Ell. So help me, I will. And he will wish he had never been fucking born."

* * *

"How are you feeling, Miss Whitford?" The doctor looks over his spectacles to survey her, his gaze full of concern.

"About as well as can be expected, I suppose." She can feel Forrest's eyes on her as well. Ellie feels uncomfortable with the attention, wringing her hands as she stares at her fingers.

"I'd like to do an examination, and if everything looks okay, you can go home today. If you could step outside, Forrest?"

He looks to her first for confirmation before he so much as moves from his chair. She gives him a barely perceptible nod and he leaves the room moments later.

Ellie winces as the doctor pokes and prods at the bruising on her face. "No fracture or breakage, lucky girl. Swelling should reduce in a couple of days, though the discoloration may persist for quite a bit longer." He moves on to the bandage on her neck, gently removing the tape and gauze so that he can take a closer look. The cool air on the wound feels good, causing a small shiver to run down her spine. "You'll need to change the dressing in the morning and at night. Mr. Bondurant should be able to assist, he's well aware of the kind of care this wound needs, having experienced something similar himself."

"Does he know ... everything?" she whispers as the doctor replaces the bandage on her neck.

"I believe he suspects rape, though none of the staff has mentioned it to him." The doctor gives her hand what is meant to be a reassuring squeeze, though Ellie has to stop herself from recoiling at the unfamiliar touch. She's sure he notices, but he makes no mention of it. "How are your privates feeling?"

"Sore." Her voice is low as she squirms in discomfort at the question.

"There was quite a bit of tearing, so that will persist for a few days." The doctor looks down to his paperwork and makes a few notes. "You are free to go, Miss Whitford, though I would like to see you again in another week."

Ellie nods, ready to get out of the hospital and back to Blackwater.

* * *

The drive home is silent. Ellie is sure that Forrest doesn't know quite what to say to her. Revenge, the threat of violence, that is the easy part for him. But to speak of what actually happened and how she may feel about it is another matter entirely. She's glad he doesn't know what to say, because she doesn't want to talk about it. She's not sure if she ever does.

They pull into a busy station. Jack looks up as they walk in, panic in his eyes as he's trying to cook. Ellie goes to him, taking the wooden spoon out of his hand before taking her place in front of the stove. He looks relieved, but eyes her warily as she ties an apron around her waist.

"You sure you up to this right now, Ellie?"

"Positive." She doesn't mean for the word to come out so short and clipped, but it does. Cooking, serving customers is her normal routine. And returning to some normalcy is exactly what she needs right now. The work isn't mindless, though it will certainly let her focus on something else other than her attack.

Jack gives her a gentle hug. "Glad to have you back, Miss Ellie."

* * *

_Forrest watches her. He's behind a few days on his books, so he takes them out of his office and into the dining room so he can keep an eye on things. Namely Ellie._

_She's smiling, laughing with the customers but it's hollow. It's as if the man who attacked her snuffed the light right out of her. She's playacting just fine, but he can see right through it. And he has no idea what to do to help her this time._

* * *

Dinner is a quiet affair that night, and she can't stand it. The brothers are tiptoeing around her, walking on eggshells so as not to say the wrong thing, remind her of what's happened. And it angers her beyond any kind of rational explanation. She knows they all care for her, she cares for them as well, but talking about something, anything would be better than this.

Ellie barely touches her food, eventually getting so fed up with the silence that she clears her plate and retreats to the porch before Forrest. She can feel all three sets of eyes on her as she leaves, but she's starting to feel suffocated in the room where her attack occurred.

Jack and Howard leave not too long after, both tipping their hats at her before disappearing into the night. Forrest follows, pushing some liquor her way but not sitting down. Ellie takes a long swig, enjoying the burn that follows. "You gonna sit?" she asks when he makes no motion to join her.

"Let's get your dressing changed first."

Ellie nods and stands before following him inside, sitting at the bar while he grabs the bag of supplies the hospital sent home with her. She cranes her neck for him, lifting her hair off her shoulder and to the side so that he can access her throat.

"Never thought I'd have to do this again," he mutters as he begins to work. His hands are surprisingly cold, though his touch is feather soft as his fingers brush against her throat. Though his fingers are hard and calloused from tough work, his touch is light, gentle. Ellie closes her eyes, relishes the feel of his skin on hers. She's starting to feel warm, and she's certain she's blushing.

_What is wrong with you?_ she mentally scolds herself. Are a few innocent, caring touches all it takes? Her mood swings are so sudden that she's having trouble keeping up.

"All done." His voice interrupts her thoughts, causing her to open her eyes and look at him.

"Thank you," she whispers back before jumping down from the bar and heading back outside alone. The jar of liquor is still sitting where they left it, so she drinks. Then she sits in her chair and drinks some more. The fire coursing through her is helping her to forget, both James' touch and Forrest's. She wants to feel numb, to forget everything.

She puts the jar down to find Forrest leaning against the building, watching her. The discomfort on his face is almost laughable as she takes another long drink of applejack. "You want to talk about it?" he finally asks to break the silence.

She sighs before handing him the mason jar. "Not really, no."

Forrest nods, looking relieved before taking his place in the chair next to her. Ellie has to suddenly bite her tongue to keep from laughing. The idea of stoic, quiet Forrest wanting to talk about feelings is ridiculous. "Do _you_?"

He grunts and shakes his head in response. So they sit in silence.

* * *

_Forrest looks over to see that Ellie has fallen asleep in her chair. For the first time since her attack, she is sleeping peacefully. Watching her fight against her nightmares had been the worst part of her stay in the hospital. He can fight anyone off in reality, but there's not much he can do for her in her dreams._

_Once again, he swears vengeance against the man that did this to her, that spoiled the innocence that laid inside the sweet girl sleeping beside him. He will pay. And Forrest won't rest until he does._

_He finishes his cigar, tries to jostle Ellie awake to make it upstairs but she doesn't so much as stir. He lifts her into his arms to carry her to bed, trying to be gentle when he knows her body and spirit are very much broken. Ellie lets out a contented sigh, nuzzling her head into his chest as he makes their way upstairs._

_Whoever he is, he will pay._

* * *

**A/N - Many, many thanks again for all of the support and reviews. More reviews never hurt ...**


	7. Chapter 7

A couple of weeks pass, and Ellie feels as if she's moving forward just fine, or at least pretends to. She serves customers with a warm smile, waving off their concerns about her injuries as if they are merely an inconvenience and not a source of shame. She laughs and jokes with the brothers, even though the lightness doesn't touch her heart. One or the other is always present now, refusing to leave her alone in the station anymore.

But the little things tell her that as much as she wants to pretend that she's moved on, she hasn't. Shadows have turned sinister. Sudden, loud noises make her jump. She's not sleeping well, food makes her sick. Every time a bell rings to signal a customer, her heart races because she thinks it's going to be James. She cries herself to sleep more often than she doesn't. Even cooking has lost its joy.

If it weren't for the fact that she knew that the brothers were counting on her, needed her assistance, she's not sure she would ever get out of bed. Each morning, rising seems to become more and more difficult, take more effort, more energy. She's exhausted all of the time.

The bruises from her face are fading, though the bags under her eyes grow larger with every passing day. And her emotions seem to always be boiling under the surface, her mood swings wild and unpredictable. One moment she's so angry she wants to break something, the next she's fighting off tears. How things are going to get better, how things are going to ever be normal again, she has no idea.

* * *

Thunder wakes her, startling her out of a restless dream. The pitter patter of rain against her window should be a calming one, she knows, but instead it increases the feeling of dread and sick in her stomach. Whatever nightmare she had been having, she's glad she can't remember it. She never can, one of the few things she is grateful for these days. She's haunted by memories enough during daylight that she doesn't need to remember the ones that come to her at night.

Ellie lays motionless in bed, staring at her hand as its laid out next to her, fascinated by the way the light dances on it as its distorted by the rain. Her mind is empty, she feels hollow. Every strike of lightning blinds her, every clap of thunder makes her jump.

She looks around the room that is now her home. Dead wildflowers sit on top of her dresser that she hasn't had the energy to throw away. Dust is starting to settle on the picture of her parents. She should be caring for her room, tending to it, but she can't find it in her to care.

Suddenly, nausea hits her and Ellie's on her feet, sprinting into the bathroom. She knocks into Forrest as he shaves in front of the bathroom mirror in her rush to get to the toilet, making it just in time to vomit. He's frozen in place as she heaves the contents of her stomach into the bowl, shaving cream on his face and a straight razor hovering in the air as he watches her. "Sorry," she manages to cough out in between heaves. "I'm sorry Forrest."

The urge to empty her stomach starts to lessen, so she leans against the wall, tilting her head back until it's resting against it. The room is still spinning, so she closes her eyes, silently willing the nausea to stop.

"Better?" he asks, turning back to the mirror to quickly finish his shave. He wipes his face with a towel before filling a cup with water from the sink and handing it to her.

Ellie takes small, slow sips as she nods. "Yes, thank you."

He sighs as he looks at her, and suddenly she's very conscious of the fact that she's only in her nightie and he in an undershirt. She can feel the blood rushing to her face as she blushes, sending the room spinning yet again.

"Let's get you back to bed, Ell." He extends his hand to her, and she takes it, sending a very different fluttering sensation into her stomach. She stumbles as he pulls her to her feet, his hands on her sides as he steadies her. Satisfied that she won't fall, Forrest lets go but follows close behind as she makes her way back into her bedroom.

Ellie lays back on her bed with a relieved sigh. Forrest covers her with a blanket, placing his hand on her forehead before rubbing it against her hair in a soothing manner. She closes her eyes, relishing in his touch. "I'll be back with the bandages. You picked a good day to get sick, won't be too much going on with the rain."

It takes every ounce of effort she has to keep from falling asleep while he's gone, but soon Forrest has returned with her necessary medical supplies. Ellie sits up and scoots her body back until she's flush against the headboard, lifting her hair and tilting her neck as he sits on the bed next to her. She's dizzy, but the security of the wall behind her helps to keep her steady.

The feeling of Forrest's calloused fingers against her neck is comforting, and she lets out a sigh as he touches her and removes her bandage. This is the only time recently that she feels content, when he is caring for her. The only time she doesn't feel damaged and useless, that she is worth caring for.

Her father had always done his best to raise her without a mother. He spoiled her, indulged her whims, gave her anything she asked for and many things she didn't. But he had never really nurtured her. Oh, she knew he loved her, and she him. But illness was dealt with alone, childhood injuries and heartbreak left to mend themselves. Those were the times she had craved a mother, wanted someone to baby her, just a little, when she was under the weather. And to learn things about being a woman that her father would have never discussed. Like what to do when a man you've been admiring since you were a teenager takes you in when you need help and cares for you almost like a mother would.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're surprisingly maternal?" she murmurs as he continues his work, the backs of his knuckles almost caressing her throat as his fingers do their work.

Forrest chuckles next to her, shaking his head. "No, can't say that anyone has."

Too soon, a new bandage is on and he is finished with his ministrations. All the warmth that he instilled in her is gone when he stands, pulling the blankets back for her so she can lay back down. "Get some rest, Ell. Feel better." He hesitates before reaching his hand out and caressing her hair again. Ellie closes her eyes and lifts her head just so to meet his touch, relishing in the feel of his hands in her hair. This is what she had always wanted from her father, some affection when she was feeling her worst. His fingers trail down to the bruising around her eye that has mostly faded, barely brushing against it before moving away. The touch is so gentle, so caring, that she wants to cry.

"Forrest?" she calls out before he can leave.

"Yeah, Ell?"

"Thank you."

He grunts and nods before leaving, shutting the door softly behind him as he goes.

She sleeps, in and out of consciousness all day and night, the rain turning into a lullaby each time she wakes before lulling her back under. At one point in the night, she notices that there is a fresh bunch of wildflowers sitting on her dresser. And for the first time in weeks, Ellie truly, genuinely smiles. That is when she notices the blood.


	8. Chapter 8

Blood is seeping through the sheets around her legs as her stomach cramps, the sudden pain causing her to scream. She has no idea where the is coming from, what is happening to her body. Hysteria is starting to claw its way up her throat. Forrest is in her room a moment later, gun raised as he looks for the unseen threat in her room. He drops it to his side when he finds nothing and finally sees the blood. "Oh, Ellie."

She is crying, her stomach in knots. "What is it?"

Forrest shakes his head. He looks away, lets out a slow breath.

"What?" she wants to yell, the pain increasing her panic. Ellie takes a few deep breaths, tries to calm herself but finds it difficult. "I'm scared Forrest, just tell me."

His face is pale, miserable when he finally turns back to her. "You miscarried, Ell."

* * *

_He runs her a hot bath as she lays in bed, mute but for an occasional whimper as pain wracks her body. He knows the warmth will help to soothe her pain. Even from the bathroom, he can hear her plight. Forrest is too familiar with those sounds, too familiar with the signs, having seen Maggie go through it far too often. It was what eventually broke her and drove her to leave, he knows. And he'll be damned if Ellie will suffer the same fate. He will not let this break her._

_He returns to her room, lifting her fragile body into his arms before bringing her to the bathtub and dipping her body into the water, clothes and all. The water tints pink quickly, but al that matters to him is when a relieved sigh leaves Ellie's lips._

_"How did you know, Forrest?" she whispers, fingers trailing through the water. He looks away, knowing the water is turning her nightgown positively indecent, but he doesn't want to leave her like this. No woman should have to go through this alone. So he sits on the floor facing away from her, his back against the bathtub._

_"Maggie," he states simply._

_"I'm sorry." Her touch on his shoulder startles him, but he quickly relaxes into it. Water seeps through his shirt from her fingers, but he doesn't mind. They sit in silence for a while, connected only by her hand, each lost in their own thoughts._

* * *

"But where are you going to sleep?" Ellie is grateful that he is giving her his bed for the night so that they won't have to deal with the mess until morning. His scent is surrounding her as he tucks some blankets around her body, helping her to relax and keep her mind off of what she just lost. But she doesn't want his bed, not at the sacrifice of his comfort.

"We have plenty of chairs."

"Just let me go clean up the mess, you can have your bed."

"No, Ell." She moves to get up but Forrest gently pushes her back down, his face hovering ridiculously close to hers. Ellie's heart starts to pound. "Rest." He hesitates for a moment before leaning in and giving her a soft kiss to her temple, the same one James had bruised. For such a strong, hard man, his lips are remarkable soft and leave their heat long after he's gone. Ellie absentmindedly brushes her fingers against her face where his lips touched until she falls asleep.

* * *

_Forrest is in his chair on the porch, smoking, too restless to try to sleep again. Dawn is a few hours away and he looks forward to watching the sunrise. A new beginning to a new day._

_Anger flows through him as he looks out into the night. He had suspected rape, but had made no mention of it since Ellie hadn't either. To have it confirmed now just makes the need for vengeance burn through him even hotter. Word was out that Forrest was looking for the man that had attacked the young Miss Whitford, but no little birdies have started singing yet._

_A sigh leaves his lips before he can stop it. When did things become so complicated? This was not what he had been planning on when Ellie first came to him for help. His life had settled quite nicely since Rakes had died on that bridge. But now Ellie was disturbing all of the peace that he had found._

_Her dreams he mostly ignored, even started coming in with her at night so as not to risk intruding into another one. He was a man after all. Forrest may think himself indestructible, but not a single man on earth wouldn't be undone by his name on her lips as she touched herself. But it had always felt akin to lust, not true feelings. Lust he could ignore._

_After her attack, and now her miscarriage, it is impossible for him to not feel something for the poor girl. He wants to protect her, tuck her into his arms and save what innocence is left from the cruel world he is all too familiar with. Losing Maggie and all of the children that could have been had turned his heart into steel. But Ellie is now slowly melting it, worming her way into his soul and he's not sure if he hates it, or loves it._

_Something is building between them. And he fears exactly what that something is._

_He heads back into the station, grabbing some cleaning supplies before heading upstairs. Whatever is happening between them, he will not ask her to clean up the bed._

* * *

Forrest's scent registers in her nostrils before she opens her eyes. Ellie squeezes them shut, tries to hold onto that pleasant feeling before reality inevitably invades. She rolls onto her side, registering the soreness in her lower stomach and letting out a muffled whimper.

"Morning." Forrest's voice is low and grumbly, sending guilt shooting through her at taking his bed. He doesn't sound upset, just a little cranky.

Ellie reluctantly opens her eyes and looks over to him. He must have dragged a chair inside the room at one point last night because he is seated on it, elbows on his knees as he leans forward. "Morning, Forrest," she groans as she sits up, pains shooting through her stomach as she moves.

He sits on the bed beside her and pushes her down onto her back again with his hand on her shoulder, same as he did the night before. "You're going to rest today. Your body needs it."

"And if I don't want to?" She knows she sounds like a petulant child but she doesn't want to stay in bed all day again.

Forrest just gives her a grim look and shakes his head. "Too bad." He stands and moves to the door, pausing before he exits and looking over his shoulder. "I'll be back with a new bandage and breakfast. Stay put."

"Why are you so good to me?" The question is out of her mouth before she can stop it. She doesn't expect a reply, so she's not surprised when he leaves without giving her one.

Ellie sits up again once he's gone, running her fingers through her tousled hair in an attempt to detangle it. She wants to be up, moving, doing something. Having something to do with her hands keeps her mind off of the past. Off of James. As much as she secretly loves being able to smell Forrest on his bedding, she wants to be out of it.

Forrest returns soon after, sitting next to her again as she lifts her hair so he can access her throat. His fingers feel so good against her skin, she has to hold her breath to keep from sighing. He works in silence, the motions to dress her wound familiar now. A thought pops into her head, and as much as she tries to shake it, she can't. It is a thought that makes her feel guilty, but she suddenly needs to voice it. "Is it bad that I feel ... relieved? That I don't have to carry his child?" she whispers, unable to meet his eye.

He thinks for a moment as he works, his knuckles brushing against her neck. "I don't reckon so, no." Ellie can't help the sigh of relief that escapes her. "Done."

Forrest stands from the bed and returns with a plate, handing it to her before sitting in the chair and eating himself. The too familiar taste of slightly charred eggs hits her throat. "Jack?" He chuckles and nods. A smile plays on her lips. "He'll burn us alive."

"Give the boy some credit, he managed okay before you showed up." Ellie gives him a knowing look, raising an eyebrow in doubt as she takes another bite. "So he started a few fires, nothing some water couldn't fix."

And suddenly she is laughing, genuinely laughing and her soul feels a bit lighter. Then, because she hasn't said it in a while, because she feels as if she can't say it enough, she thanks him.

* * *

_He stays with her for the day, unwillingly trusting Jack to keep the kitchen going and the station in order. Forrest would feel better doing it himself, but he feels that Ellie's needs are greater than Blackwater's today. She's been quietly sleeping on his bed since breakfast._

_"What's it like to kill a man?"_

_Forrest didn't realize she was awake, the question startling him for numerous reasons. Ellie is staring at him, her blue eyes wide and innocent for such a loaded question. That she knows he has killed and can still look at him in such a way is a marvel._

_There are so many things he can tell her, of the blood and the fury and the adrenaline that kicks in before the trigger is pulled. The feeling that follows, the guilt regardless of how justified the death may be. The satisfaction that still remains when it is. But he refrains from telling her these things, opting instead for the simplest answer he can give. "It's a heavy burden to carry."_

_"You'll kill the man that hurt me, wont you?" He nods. "You would carry that burden for me?"_

_"Every day, until I die."_

* * *

**A/N - Thank you guys again for all of the support and love. Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

Ellie decides a few days later to cut his hair. It has been getting shaggy for a while and she gets it in her brain that she will cut it herself. She used to do it for her father and enjoyed it, and she yearns to do the same for Forrest. She wants to take care of him for once, rather than the other way around. He has done so much for her, and she wants to do this small thing to try to make up for it.

Unsurprisingly, he puts up a fuss about it all day but she will not be deterred. He seems to realize this because he finally gives in after a few hours of drinking together on the porch that night. Ellie swallows the squeal of delight she wants to let out and hurries into the station. She hums as she pulls a chair out for him, running upstairs to grab scissors, a towel and a comb.

She can sense him watching her when she returns. He's leaning against the door frame, mason jar dangling from his fingertips. The lighting isn't the best, but the sight of him takes her breath away. Something about him in that moment is so ridiculously handsome, her stomach clenches with desire and he's almost painful to look at.

They've known each other for years, and she's stayed with him now for a few months and endured more in that time than she's known her entire life. And he's been there for every part of it. Helped her, nurtured her, cared for her. Something comes loose inside as she watches him, some unknown dam breaking, feelings and emotions that she didn't know she had leaking out as he stands there unmoving. Her heart clenches painfully. Every touch, every caress had always given her butterflies. And now she knows why.

He makes no move towards the chair that she has so obviously prepared for him, and she knows she will have to literally drag him. Now she's suddenly nervous about the task that she has so determinedly set out for herself. But she can't back out now.

She can feel the weight of his stare on her as she lays her supplies out on the table, scurrying behind the bar to grab a cup of water to assist in the cut. With a sigh she moves towards him, grabbing his free hand and pulling him as she walks backwards, a shy smile on her face. Her heart is hammering at his touch, but she doesn't release his hand, tries to keep her face from betraying her as he drags his feet. Forrest sighs, looking reluctant but resigned to his fate.

* * *

_He doesn't want her to cut his damn hair. But after all that she's been through, she had been so excited by the prospect, he tried but found he couldn't deny her. So now he finds himself being pulled toward the chair, looking at it as if it's the electric chair he hears the state is so fond of using. She forces him down with a push and he sits with a sigh, taking another sip of moonshine as she drapes a towel on his shoulders._

_The expressions on her face before she even begins alone are worth it, even if she does wind up butchering his hair. Her tongue is between her teeth, head tilted to the side as she surveys him. She reaches out tentatively and runs her fingers against his scalp._

_And, dear God, the feel of her hands in his hair is nearly too much. She tugs and takes the first snips, running her fingers through his short locks as she works and he can't stop himself from closing his eyes in pleasure. It is the most physical contact they have ever had with each other, and he's sure it will drive him insane._

_His barber has never done this before. And now he's not sure if he'll ever be going back, not as long as Ellie is willing to do this for him. Butchered hair be damned, he'll take the excuse for her to touch him._

_He keeps his eyes closed as her fingers continue their work, the snip of the scissors the only sound in the station. He has to fight the urge to nuzzle his head into her touch as she runs her fingers through again. It is nearly too much: fingertips brushed against his ear, her breath against the back of his neck as she leans in to inspect her work. He can feel the goose bumps rising and he just hopes that she doesn't notice the affect she is having on him. Cool water hits his scalp before she starts running a comb through his hair, the frequency of her cuts slowing._

_"Done," she whispers too soon, her fingers brushing the hair off his shoulders as she moves around him. He can sense her in front of him but he keeps his eyes closed as she reaches out to brush his hair off of his forehead and to the side again._

_The feel of pressure and lips against his own are so surprising, he doesn't move, too shocked and confused to return her sudden kiss. It isn't long, just a few seconds, but he opens his eyes to see her pull away. "Sorry, Forrest, I just ..." And then she's running upstairs and away from him before he can respond._

* * *

_Stupid!_ she scolds herself, fighting off tears as she runs to her room and shuts the door. Why? What in the world possessed her to lean in and kiss him? One moment she had been finishing his haircut, proud of her work, and the next she just couldn't stop herself from leaning in to press her lips to his. He didn't kiss her back, and that's all the information she needs to know as she sobs into her hands, feeling foolish and juvenile for a stolen kiss that she had no right to take. Whatever feelings may have surfaced are apparently hers alone and unreciprocated. The thought makes her heart clench even tighter.

She doesn't hear the door open. His large hand is on her upper arm and she's suddenly spinning into his chest, Forrest holding her there with a fierce look before crushing his lips against hers. It is desperate, and harsh, and everything she wanted when she had kissed him earlier. His mouth is hard against hers, his breathing fast, and she can't help but whimper at the insistent throb that has blossomed between her thighs. And then his lips are moving, hers dancing with his, and she is positively drowning in him, all of her senses being assaulted by Forrest and she just wants more. His scent, the feel of his hand on her waist and a fist in her hair, pulling her closer to his so that he can taste more of her. His own taste, of cigars and liquor as he opens his mouth and explores hers with his tongue. The stubble of his beard as it rubs against her skin. It is so overwhelming, she half wants to cry. She would be gasping for breath if she could, but she can't, becoming lightheaded as the world starts to spin under his touch. She can feel his arousal throbbing against her stomach and she is aching, desperate for more.

"Forrest," she moans as he pulls away, breaking the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as they both catch their breath. His breath is warm on her lips when he leans in once more to press against them softly. And then he releases her and he is gone.

* * *

_As much as he wants to lay her on the bed and make her his right then and there, he has to walk away. She is still a victim, and he won't have her until he is positive she is ready. Forrest turns to look back at her one last time before he leaves and it's nearly his undoing. Her head is tilted back, eyes closed, cheeks flushed pink and her breathing heavy through barely parted, slightly swollen lips. And she is absolutely beautiful._

_She probably doesn't know it yet, but he is absolutely hers._

* * *

**A/N - My thanks again to all of you that are reading and enjoying this. Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

"What's got you two tiptoeing around each other all of a sudden?" Howard's smirk is knowing as Forrest retreats to his office, leaving Ellie half wanting to laugh and half wanting to smack the smugness off Howard's face. Instead, she blushes and shrugs before turning back to the stove and the pork chops she is tending for their dinner. "You two have a fight?" Ellie turns back to Howard to find him leaning across the bar, impish glee in his eyes. "Or was it something else, little peach?"

"I am going to poison your potatoes if you don't shut up, Howard," she threatens, waving her tongs in his direction.

"Feisty tonight, huh Ellie? You're so much fun when you're in this kind of mood." He nudges his mason jar towards her on the bar. "Want to add some fire to that?" Ellie has never drank around the other brothers, but Forrest's attitude and general standoffish demeanor today is making her skin crawl. So she takes a swig, noting the look of appreciation in Howard's eye as she does. "Good girl."

She is struck with a sudden urge to laugh, but instead she rolls her eyes and goes back to the pork as the liquor burns its way down to her empty stomach. Inside, she is seething. How could Forrest kiss her that way last night and then act the way he has today? Like nothing happened? It's like her second day at Blackwater all over again when he wouldn't so much as meet her eye. Ellie turns and snatches the jar away from Howard again to take another drink.

"Ellie!" Jack calls out, a genuine smile on his face as he enters the station. No matter how sour her mood, Jack always seems to instantly cheer her up. He is always so happy to see her, like it's a surprise to find her at the station each night. He gives her a hug from behind before retreating to the opposite side of the bar next to Howard, staying far away from the stove where they both know he doesn't belong anywhere near. "Smells good as always." His grin is infectious, and she can't help but return it.

"Stop cheering her up, Jack. I like her sour," Howard grumbles into his jar.

"That's it, I'm poisoning your damn potatoes."

* * *

Dinner is the closest to normal as it has been for weeks, Jack and Howard bickering as Ellie laughs and Forrest looks on in silence. Maybe she is starting to heal, maybe the miscarriage has freed her from her misery somehow, or maybe the moonshine from Howard is working some magic on her. Regardless, she feels lighter, happier than she has in some time.

"Bunch of jackasses," Forrest mumbles after Howard makes a lewd joke, retreating to the porch, setting off another round of laughter.

"See his panties are all bunched up again," Howard comments before shooting Ellie a wink. "Wonder why that is?"

"Oh, shut it. You boys want some cobbler?" Ellie asks as she stands and clears their plates from the table.

"You know you don't even have to ask, Ellie," Jack replies with a grin.

She serves some dessert for each of them, even Forrest, as the other brothers poke fun at each other at the table. Dropping off three plates, she decides to bring Forrest his on the porch before eating hers.

"Brought you some cobbler, Forrest," she announces as she pushes the screen door open with her hip. He doesn't acknowledge her, just sits in his chair and looks off into the night. Ellie fights the urge to shove it at him in anger, instead dropping the plate a little harder than necessary on the little table between their chairs. "You're welcome," she mutters before turning to leave.

His hand whips out and snatches hers, running his calloused thumb along her wrist for a moment. He finally meets her gaze, his eyes soft. "Thank you, Ell." He drops his hold on her and nods. Ellie swallows hard before re-entering the station, eating her dessert in silence as Howard and Jack continue to bicker.

* * *

Ellie joins Forrest on the porch once the other brothers have left and she's cleaned up. His eyes are closed and she would think him sleeping if it weren't for the cigar burning in his hand. She snatches up the jar of moonshine at his feet, ignoring her usual jar of applejack that sits waiting for her on the table. His eyes crack open and he watches her warily as she takes a long drink, enjoying the warmth that is flooding her bloodstream. One sweet brush of her hand is not enough to erase the anger that is coursing through her veins.

"Howard's right, you are sour tonight." She doesn't sit, just leans against the wall and stares at him defiantly as she steals his liquor. Forrest chuckles, taking a puff off of his cigar before putting it out. He closes his eyes again and lays his head back, his nonchalance making her seethe even more. "You going to sit, Ell?"

Anger fuels her towards him. She sits, though by the jolt that runs through his body he is surprised at exactly where she has decided to take up residence. On his lap, straddling his broad thighs as her dress rides up her legs. The combination of liquor and fury is making her brave. Ellie should be quivering with nerves and uncertainty, but somehow her hands are steady. She runs her hands up his shoulders and to his throat, running a finger over his scar before leaning in to place her lips against his marred flesh. "Do you regret last night?" she whispers huskily as she continues to kiss her way across his skin. Forrest doesn't respond, but she can hear his breathing turn heavy. Where this sudden boldness is coming from, she doesn't care. He feels good under her lips, his smell intoxicating. "Is that why you've been acting the way you have today?"

His grip is firm but gentle as he gathers her hair in his fist, using his grip to pull her head back until she meets his eyes. "You think I regret that?"

"Why else would you-" But he cuts off her words by crushing his lips against hers in a hungry kiss, tasting of liquor and smoke. He releases his hold on her hair to run his fingers down her throat, brushing across her collarbone and sending shivers of pleasure down her spine as he tastes her. His hands make their way down to her waist and she gasps into his mouth when he pulls her hips closer to his and she can feel the evidence of his desire pressing against her core. Sparks start to ignite over her skin and she groans, involuntarily grinding her hips against his as they continue to kiss.

Forrest releases her lips only to start kissing her jaw, his lips soft against her skin. He kisses and nibbles his way up to her ear, giving her lobe a quick nip before pulling her close until she rests her forehead on his shoulder. "Just because I don't show it the same as you," he whispers to her, "doesn't mean I don't care about you, Eleanor Whitford." His warm breath against her skin makes her whimper and she grips onto his broad shoulders like she may fall without him to hold onto. The statement is true in more ways than one, she realizes. His eyes are soft as he runs his hand up her throat to push her upright so that he can hold her gaze as he says "My Ellie, my sweet Ell."

* * *

_Forrest's hands seem to have a mind of their own as they start to move their way up her inner thighs. He is caught with an overwhelming urge to make her feel good, to give her some release, but she tenses beneath his touch as his fingers move higher. Even though he knows he has the best intentions, he stops, instead pulling her towards him to rest against his chest as they breathe each other in. She shifts her body on top of his until she is pressed against his erection and he has to bite off a moan. "Think it's best if you get off now, Ell." The words sound strained, even to him, but there's only so much a man can stand and still act a gentleman. Ellie sits up and gives him a sly grin, grinding her hips against his before standing and sitting in her own chair. "You'll be the death of me, woman," he groans before taking a swig of liquor and passing her the jar._

_"I thought you were indestructible, Forrest." Her smile is wicked before she tilts the contents of the jar into her mouth._

_"I thought so too, but that was before I really knew you."_


	11. Chapter 11

"There's a barn party tomorrow night down at the Mayfield's."

They are on the porch, Ellie curled up in Forrest's lap as he rocks them together, same as they have done every evening for weeks now. The nights are turning cooler, the air crisp. It is the calm before the inevitable storm that's coming, when Forrest will touch her just so or she will run her fingers through his hair and they will all but attack each other, kissing and rubbing against each other until it is so warm that they are both sweating and panting. Just the thought alone sends a shiver of anticipation through her, causing Forrest to pull her closer.

Every day, she falls for him a little more. His patience with her alone is enough to warm her heart. Forrest doesn't push her, doesn't press her to do anything she's not sure she's ready for. And after her attack, that isn't much.

He pauses their rocking to take a sip of moonshine, offering Ellie the jar and running his hand up and down her side as she drinks. She returns it to him and he puts it down before resuming their motion. "Oh?" she finally asks back.

"We'll be selling our, ah, wares. I'd like you to come."

Ellie nuzzles her head into his shoulder, planting a soft kiss on his neck that elicits a low growl from him. Inside, she's panicking, worried that she will run into James. But the brothers will be there to watch over her, a great comfort, enough of one that she's willing to go. An idea strikes her. "You going to dance with me Forrest?"

"I don't dance. I'm sure Howard or Jack would oblige you, though."

Ellie could have guessed as much, but it's fun to toy with him. She nips at his neck, a smile on her lips when his breathing starts to turn heavy. "And if I want you?"

Forrest gathers her hair into his hand and gently pulls her head upright until she's looking into his eyes. "You already have me, Ell." And at that, he pulls her face to his and gives her a long, hard kiss.

* * *

The brothers may not notice that the crowd parts as they walk in, but Ellie certainly does. The Bondurant legend is even larger now that Rakes is dead and their world in Franklin county is back to normal. There is respect, even reverence on many of the faces in the barn. She feels suddenly self-conscious, feeling almost as if she's not worthy to be in the brothers' presence.

Forrest nods to a dark corner and his brothers haul their crates over to set up business as the band strikes up a new song. Anxious for something to do, Ellie follows them as Forrest stands there, seeming to stare down the entire room as if to challenge them. She sits with Jack and Howard, tapping her foot and clapping to the music while smiling. Forrest disappears from sight, off to do whatever Forrest does at a gathering such as this.

The boys are sitting on either side of her, Howard drinking while Jack sits with his elbows on his knees and watches the people dancing. People start to filter over, handing Howard the cash as Jack hands out mason jars full of liquor. Ellie sneaks a jar of applejack out of their stores and takes a few swigs when she thinks no one is looking. The band strikes up a new song, one Ellie is familiar with and enjoys. She turns to the oldest brother and gives him a shy smile. "Dance with me, Howard?"

"Not sure your toes can take it, little peach," he replies with a smirk before taking a long swig of liquor and standing up. "But sure."

Jack chuckles beside her as Howard extends her his hand, pulling her onto the dance floor and leading her in a rather clumsy two-step. Ellie feels lighter than she has in some time, unburdened, as he spins her around and tries to avoid stepping on her feet. They're both laughing together, moving to the music. Jack cuts in as another song starts, not doing much better than Howard at keeping off her toes. But that pain she'll accept for the joy the brothers are bringing her. She loves Blackwater, sees it as her home now, but it is a beautiful thing to be out and about, dancing and enjoying life.

* * *

_Forrest watches her as he leans against a wall, chewing on his cigar and hand in his pocket, fingering his brass knuckles. She looks full of life, the bright spark in Ellie's personality finally starting to flicker and glow again. To see the happiness on her face, to see her laughing and spinning and dancing with his brothers, brings him a quiet joy._

_She's a good dancer, despite his brothers' best efforts to destroy her feet. Ellie takes each stomp in stride, just throws her head back and laughs as the dance continues. To see Howard and Jack both dance with her is something special. Ellie has them all wrapped around her little finger in different ways, and he's not sure if she realizes it. Probably best if she doesn't._

_Not for the first time, he is struck by her beauty, the curl of her hair and the curve of her hips. Her dress is a pale peach color, one that makes her eyes look bluer and her cheeks rosier. He is hers, and she is his, and it doesn't matter if anyone else knows it. Forrest actually prefers it that way, that their relationship is their secret, for them and no one else._

_Her dance with Jack ends, his brother leaning down to give her hand a kiss as Ellie puts a hand over her heart. Jack retreats back to the corner with Howard, but Forrest watches her cross the room to grab a drink of lemonade that the Mayfields have set out for the occasion. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair a little mussed, and the thought of every stolen kiss they've shared on his porch runs through his mind. Forrest is about to drag her behind the barn to steal a few more when he notices someone else approaching her._

_Forrest can't see his face, but it looks like one of the McCall boys, he thinks. Probably wanting a dance from his girl, though by the look on her face, she wants no part of it. Something is off about the interaction, he can tell without hearing them speak. Ellie is pale and looks frightened, shaking her head. The man reaches out to touch her face, Ellie taking a step back before scurrying out the barn and running into the night, Forrest following close behind._

* * *

"What was that about, Ell?"

Ellie closes her eyes, gripping her arms tightly to keep Forrest from seeing how badly her hands are shaking. She can sense his approach, but she stays still, desperately trying to calm her emotions before he can see them and question her further. Why she's still keeping the secret, why she's continuing to lie to Forrest by not saying anything, she doesn't know. "Just not feeling well, all of a sudden." At this point, that much isn't a fib. When James had reached out to touch the side of her face he had damaged, it was enough to make her sick.

_How dare he?_ she wants to scream. Where does he get the courage, the gall to approach her in public with that evil leer on his face, and act as if he didn't do anything wrong? Act offended when she refuses his offer to dance? Look hurt when she pulls away from his touch? She suddenly yearns to tell Forrest, wants to watch James pay for his crimes. At this point, admitting this to him would be admitting she lied to him, something she is not wont to do.

"Was that one of the McCalls?"

Ellie's heart is racing, and she doesn't trust her acting abilities to face Forrest as she keeps her secret. "Yes, James."

"What did he want?"

"Just a dance." Ellie takes a steadying breath, starts rubbing her hands up and down her arms as the air starts to give her chills. "Can we go home, Forrest?"

His hand is warm on her lower back as he guides her towards the truck. "Yeah, c'mon."

* * *

**A/N - First, a little shameless self-promotion. The lovely Comingsummers and are collaborating on an Inception story, called Deception. I'll post a link on my profile (if I can figure out how). And if you haven't read her stories, I highly encourage you to do so.**

**Again, many thanks for reading and all of the reviews. I'm running into a little writer's block on a future chapter. Anything you guys are hoping to see or looking for? Let me know, it would be a great help and allow me to continue posting on the every other day schedule I've been keeping so far. Thanks again!**


	12. Chapter 12

That night, after the party, Ellie wakes gasping, heart hammering against her ribs. This nightmare, she remembers. Since she's been moving on and not dwelling on her attack during the day anymore, she supposes that her brain is working through it all at night now. She tries to close her eyes and go back to sleep but all she can see is James' cruel smile as he stalks her, asks her to dance. So she throws off her blankets and pads her way across the hall, seeking comfort in Forrest.

She tries to open the door quietly, but the cock of the hammer on his pistol tells her that she wasn't successful. "It's me," she whispers before tiptoeing in, staring down the barrel of his gun. "I didn't mean to wake you, I'm sorry."

"S'okay," he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair as he sets his pistol next to the bed. "What are you doing?"

"I had a nightmare." Ellie can feel her cheeks color, silently cursing herself for sounding so juvenile.

Forrest doesn't respond, just shifts to his side and opens the blankets up for her to crawl in next to him. A contented sigh leaves her lips as he puts his arms around her, curling his body around hers until she feels completely enveloped. His breathing evens out quickly behind her, the rhythm comforting. Gradually, sleep pulls her back under to join him.

* * *

_Forrest wakes just a few hours later to Ellie squirming in his arms and moaning his name as she sleeps. Watching her from her doorway was one thing. Having her writhing and panting as she grinds her rear against him is quite another. "Ellie," he groans, tries to jostle her awake before they pass a point of no return. "Ellie, wake up."_

_"Forrest," she positively purrs, though her eyes remain closed. Her hand had been resting on top of his while they slept, but it is now starting to inch its way down her stomach while her body continues to push and rub against him. "Forrest, please." He grabs her hand to stop her, coercing a whine from somewhere inside her. He wants to do this for her, not watch her do it herself._

_Unable to stand it anymore, he rolls her onto her back before tilting her head and waking her with a kiss._

* * *

The scratchiness of his beard against her skin is what wakes her before realizing that Forrest is kissing her. It shocks her to be woken this way, but she quickly relaxes into it, parting her lips with a sigh as he dips his tongue into her mouth to taste her. There is an immediate ache between her legs, making her squirm as he starts to trail kisses across her jaw to her ear before starting on her neck. So she doesn't tense when his hand starts to travel from her shoulder to her breast, groaning into his mouth as he cups her in his hand. His thumb brushes against her nipple and it instantly contracts and hardens, sending a shock of pleasure through her body.

"Do you trust me, Ell?" he murmurs into her hair, nuzzling into her neck. His beard is rough against her throat, but it just sends sparks running all over her body. His breathing is heavy, as is hers. She whimpers as his hand leaves her breast just to moan when it finds her other, gently rolling her nipple between his fingers. "I asked you a question, give me an answer."

But it is so difficult to speak when he is overloading her senses in the way that he is, difficult to focus and concentrate on the words that are coming out of his mouth. "I, what?" she somehow manages to reply, uncertain of the original question.

"Look at me, Ell." He trails his hand up her chest and to her throat, turning her to face him. "Do you trust me?"

She doesn't have to think about the question to know the answer. "Yes."

He captures her lips with his again, swallowing the moan that has escaped her. Forrest props himself up on one elbow as he continues to tease her mouth open with his tongue. But his other hand trails down her stomach, runs his touch down to her knee before slowly starting its ascent on the inside of her thigh and under her nightie. Ellie tenses, suddenly uncertain and afraid. "I'll stop if you want me to," he whispers, his lips brushing against hers as he speaks. "But I don't want to. Let me give you this."

His hand has stopped its progress, tracing light circles over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Ellie debates, tries to force rational thought through her head. But it is incredibly difficult to think when he is touching her the way he is, when he is kissing her so sweetly one moment and then desperately the next. He trails kisses up her jaw again, knowing, she is sure, what it does to her body when he does. "Okay," she whispers, her decision made.

Forrest's kiss is harsh, unforgiving, and she can barely hear the growl that erupts from his chest. His fingers move her panties to the side, causing Ellie's heart to pound harder and faster than she thought possible. All of the panic leaves her as his fingertips gently dip into her core before using her wetness to run circles around her sensitive button. Absolute, pure pleasure runs through her body, causing her to shudder and whimper beneath him.

His kiss grows more frantic, his tongue moving in time with his fingertips. Ellie moans and writhes under his touch as he strokes her, gasps into his mouth when he slides a finger inside. Pressure is starting to build in her lower stomach, strange but familiar. She clenches her muscles against it, adjusting something inside her so that Forrest's one finger suddenly hits just the right spot within her core. His thumb rubbing circles on her button, he slips another digit inside, increasing the pace.

"Oh, God, Forrest," she whines as she breaks their kiss, the pressure growing nearly unbearable.

"Let go, Ell. I've got you." His eyes hold hers, his gaze tender. That one look does it.

Electricity flows through her as she comes apart beneath his touch, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through her body. His fingers don't let up their pace, coaxing her to a higher plane of ecstasy than she knew existed. Ellie sobs as the fire courses through her body, some delicious mixture of pleasure and pain.

Forrest kisses her softly as she comes down from her high, slowly extracting his hand from her underwear but still sending a jolt through her. He rests his arm across her waist before lying back down on his side, fingers tracing patterns on her hip. "That was ..." she whispers, cupping his cheek in her hand as her head lolls back and she closes her eyes. "Thank you. Where did that even come from?"

"Ah," Forrest hesitates, lying his head on the pillow next to hers as he takes her into his arms. "You were having a dream."

"A nightmare?" Forrest grunts and shakes his head no next to her. "Then why did you wake me?"

He leans over to give her neck a nuzzling kiss. "It was turning a little … indecent."

Ellie's cheeks burn hot as she blushes. "Sorry."

"Not the first time, won't be the last, I'm sure."

Ellie notices a persistent hardness nudging against her hip and flushes, feeling suddenly guilty and selfish for taking pleasure from Forrest without considering his own.

Tentatively, she reaches down, brushing her hand against him to experiment. Forrest gives a harsh intake of breath before letting it out slowly. "Careful, Ell," he growls.

"I want to ... " she whispers, embarrassed, her voice sounding remarkably small. "I want to make you feel good too, but I don't know how." Ellie reaches down and gives him a squeeze, fascinated by the stiff feel of him in her hand.

"You sure about this?" Ellie nods, blushing. "C'mere," Forrest coaxes, laying on his back as she rotates to her side. He pulls her face into a kiss before taking her hand and guiding it down, resting his palm on top of her hand as she feels him through his pants. She's tentative at first, just rubbing and testing his reactions, repeating her motions each time Forrest growls at her in approval.

Ellie watches as his eyes close, his chin jutting out just so as she continues the motions she thinks he likes. His breathing is heavy, one hand behind his head as the other lazily plays with her hair. She stops to pull his pants and underwear off, Forrest lifting his hips to assist her, and she can't help but be amazed at her first real view of a man's privates. She cautiously wraps her fingers around his length, the heavy feel of him in her hands satisfying. Somehow, it is both hard and soft and to hear Forrest groan just makes it all the more exciting.

He wraps one hand around hers and encourages her to start moving her grip up and down, his fingers almost intertwined with hers as he guides her. His breathing is starting to become labored, coming closer to growls than anything else. "Kiss me," he demands, Ellie leaning into him and brushing her lips against hers. She starts to quicken her pace beneath his hand as he dips his tongue into her mouth, his muscles tensing beside her. Ellie feels powerful, as if she is controlling him, the thought sending a tingle down her skin.

And suddenly he bites down into her lower lip as he releases, groaning into her mouth, his length twitching and moving in her hand. Curious, she peeks down, catching a quick glance of white on her hand before Forrest takes a dirty shirt from the floor beside the bed and cleans them off. Ellie lays beside him, feeling uncomfortable, unsure what to do now. Her question is answered when Forrest pulls her into his side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as his fingers rub circles along her upper arm. They lay in silence for a while before falling back to sleep.

* * *

Ellie tries to go to sleep in her room alone for the next few nights, but inevitably winds up tiptoeing across the hall to sneak into Forrest's room. Each night he greets her with a cocked gun before setting it aside and making room for her in his bed. Sleeping in his arms has spoiled her, and she has trouble falling asleep without him next to her anymore. And waking up to him the next morning and exploring each other is certainly a perk.

"I don't know why you even bother pretending," Forrest tells her a week later before bed as they're about to go their separate ways.

"Pretending?"

"Like you're going to fall asleep in your room. C'mon to bed, you'll spare me my nightly heart attack when you try to sneak in."

* * *

**A/N - Thanks, as always, for reading. Please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

The smack of the screen door against its frame alerts Ellie to a new customer. "I'll be with you in a minute!" she calls out over her shoulder, her attention on the grits that are threatening to boil over. She pulls the pot off the stove to reduce the heat, stirring in some cheese and butter the way that Jack likes them. The scrape of a stool against the floor tells her that her new patron is seated at the bar. Ellie sighs, using the back of her hand to wipe away some of the hair that has plastered itself to her sweating forehead.

"What can I get you?" she asks as she turns to face her new customer, immediately freezing.

"Hello, little peach." James' voice is chipper, but it still makes her knees weak with fear.

Ellie immediately glances over to the corner where Jack sits, stealing some time with his Bertha before she has to scurry back home. Forrest and Howard are out on a run, but James wouldn't try anything with Jack here, would he? Most in the area used to see him as the weakest brother, until word got around about his part in the death of Special Deputy Rakes. It certainly wasn't the case anymore. Jack had since earned the respect that the name Bondurant commanded in their county.

"What are you doing here?" Ellie whispers, keeping her voice low so that Jack won't overhear and pay them unneeded attention. "Please leave, James."

"How about a slice of that apple pie that's cooling on the counter over there? I know your peaches are incredibly sweet, but I'll settle for some of your apples today."

"Neither are for you," she almost hisses through clenched teeth, catching his intended meaning. It feels as if there is a rock in her stomach, that she's torn between anger and fear.

"Maybe I should just take it. I do like sweet things."

"What gives you the right to just take-"

"Those grits ready yet, Ellie?" Jack calls out from the corner, Bertha slapping his arm playfully.

"Yeah, sorry Jack!" she calls out, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. Ellie takes a few breaths as she plates the grits, tries to calm herself as she brings Jack his breakfast, feeling James' eyes on her as she goes. She keeps both hands on the bowl, tries to keep it from shaking as she places it on the table.

"Thank you kindly, Ellie." Jack gives her a smile before digging in.

"You alright, Ellie?" Bertha asks from beside him, her eyes shrewd and calculating as she looks her over. Jack eats beside her, apparently oblivious. But of course, a woman knows. It's obvious that Bertha can sense something is off. "You look pale."

"Just feeling a little lightheaded," Ellie replies, trying to force her tone to stay pleasant when in reality, she just wants to scream.

Bertha's voice drops, keeping it low enough that it won't carry. "I would too if I were talking to James McCall. That man just doesn't sit right with me."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you for thinking of me though, Ellie. That's awful sweet of you."

Ellie wrings her hands in her apron, nodding her acknowledgement to Bertha before turning and making her way back to the bar. Her heart is hammering against her ribs, her breathing shallow, her head spinning. The idea of going back to the stove and facing down James again, to pretend that there is nothing wrong and serve him with a smile, it's all too much. She tries to force one foot in front of the other, but everything goes dark as she faints.

* * *

_Forrest walks in to find Ellie seated in a chair, head leaned back and her eyes closed. She looks clammy, pale. Jack and his girl are seated in chairs next to her, Bertha wringing out a washcloth in a bowl of water before handing it over to Ellie. A sigh of relief escapes her lips as she places it on her forehead._

_"What happened?" Forrest murmurs as he approaches, crouching next to his girl so that she they are eye-level. Ellie lifts her head and stares at him, her eyes wide and fearful, causing his stomach to give an involuntary lurch._

_"She just up and fainted, Forrest," Jack explains before standing. "I gotta get Bertha home before her father notices she's gone. You going to be okay taking care of her?" Forrest doesn't respond, just glares at his brother until Jack shrugs. "Feel better, Ellie." Jack gives her hand a squeeze before taking Bertha's in his and exiting the station._

_"You alright, Ell?" he whispers before sitting in one of the recently vacated chairs._

_"I'm fine." On the surface, it sounds like the truth. But something in the tone of her voice and the way she is looking at him tells him that it's a lie._

* * *

Dinner and their time together on the porch is a quieter affair than usual that night. Ellie tries to put on a happy face, play along, laugh with the brothers, but she can't. James showing up has shaken her to the core. And really, who can she blame but herself? After months of going unpunished, of showing up to the barn party and leaving unscathed, why wouldn't he come to Blackwater? She's sure the sadistic side of him was quite pleased to watch her squirm, see her faint.

Ellie thought she was moving on, coping. Maybe it would be impossible until James was dead. Because he apparently will continue to torture her as long as they both live.

"Everything alright, Ellie?" Forrest's voice is soft, but she still jumps when he speaks. His grip around her tightens as he rocks them, pulling the blanket they brought out to fight the cold closer to her body.

Ellie sighs, nuzzles her head into the crook of his shoulder and plants a kiss to his neck so that he can't see her face. She hates lying to him, despises it. She had never been one for self-loathing and she figures this feeling is about as close to it as it gets. But it is the hole she has dug for herself, and she can't help but wonder how deep it will go before she suffocates. "Everything's fine, Forrest. Just thinking."

"Of?"

She decides to go with the truth, or about as close to it as she can get without admitting her lie. "Us."

His hand is warm as he squeeze the side of her waist, pulling her body even closer to his. "Anything you care to share?"

"No, not tonight." And because she knows it will distract him, knows what it will lead to, she runs her hand through his hair until he growls and kisses her.

* * *

Ellie wakes in the middle of the night with a gasp, fingers clawing at her throat at the knife that isn't there. She tries to sit up, catch her breath, but Forrest's grip on her torso is tight. It's the first nightmare she's had since essentially moving into his room. Ellie glances over to the floor next to her side of the bed, to the picture of her parents and the new bunch of wildflowers that she woke to just a few mornings prior. But neither gives her strength, not tonight when the shadows are dark in both the room and her heart.

Her mother's smile haunts her, of the secrets contained within. Of her own secrets. And then she's sobbing uncontrollably, hands over her face, a lump in her throat that will not go away even when she cries harder.

"Ell?" Forrest's voice is low next to her, confused.

She doesn't answer, just rolls onto her side and buries her head into his chest as the tears continue to fall. Forrest doesn't speak, just pulls her in closer, rubs his hand on her lower back and whispers assurances into her hair. He cups her face in his palm, wiping away her tears with a calloused thumb. Rather than calm her, his sweetness just adds to her pain, causes her to cry harder. She is in a hell of her own making, one that could be solved with just a few words and one name. Ellie opens her mouth to form the words, to free herself, but she can't. All that comes out is silence. So she just sobs harder.

* * *

_"Tell me what to do, Ell." Even Forrest can hear the fear and panic in his voice, but at the moment he doesn't care. He only cares for what will calm her, what will soothe her pain, what will help his sweet Ellie in this moment. It is a plea, as close to begging as he will ever get._

_She looks up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. Even in the moonlight he can see how pink her cheeks are, how glassy her eyes look. In a voice barely above a whisper, she gives him her answer. "Make love to me, Forrest. Make me yours."_

_Ellie's hand creeps its way down to his bellybutton as her crying slows, starts to move the elastic of his underwear away from his body to slip inside. Forrest grabs her wrist before she can make any more progress. He will not take advantage of her. "No."_

_"No?" She looks up to him, her eyes wide and almost scared._

_"Not like this, Ell." Forrest leans in and kisses her before she can start crying again, trying to convey without words that he does want her, does crave her. Ellie whimpers into his mouth, relaxing in his arms, her lips soft against his. There is no urgency to the kiss, it is slow and sweet and unhurried. He pulls away, resting his forehead against hers as he caresses her cheek. "Someday, sweet Ell. But not tonight."_


	14. Chapter 14

Unfortunately, James starts coming to Blackwater on a regular basis. Never when Howard or Forrest are there to watch over her, only Jack. Ellie figures he must be watching the station, just waiting until the time is ripe to traipse in and cause her as much discomfort as possible without attracting the youngest Bondurant's attention. How Jack doesn't notice is beyond her, because it always feels like the tension in the air is palpable, thick and heavy and suffocating.

She hasn't fainted since his first visit back to Blackwater, but it takes a lot of focus and determination to stay conscious and not give in each time he returns. The sadistic smile James wears each visit makes her stomach churn and her blood boil. But still she does nothing, says nothing to the brothers, and James continues his slow torture. It has become its own perverse routine.

The air continues to turn cooler, and as fall settles in, rainy and wet. The weather drives Ellie and Forrest inside, their nights spent in front of Blackwater's fireplace rather than the porch. Between the flame, the liquor, and their body heat, their evenings are warm indeed. They're on the floor, Forrest's back against the wall and Ellie seated between his legs. His hands have no real purpose or direction, just lazily tracing up her arms, through her hair, on her shoulders and twining his fingers with hers. His beard is tickling her neck, but she just relaxes into him, a content sigh leaving her lips.

It's the only time she feels normal, protected and safe, when she's in Forrest's arms by the fire. Ellie is certain he suspects something is eating at her, her nightmares are starting to come more frequently again. But he says nothing, sensing, and rightly so, that she will talk when she's ready. If she'll ever be ready.

* * *

_Forrest had always been a light sleeper, so when Ellie left the bed at some point in the middle of the night, he woke but quickly fell back into an uneasy sleep. He had grown used to sleeping next to her, loved the warmth and comfort that she brought to him. Though her sleep has become more and more restless, her nightmares more frequent. She had seemed to be getting better for a while, but for whatever reason, things were going backwards now. He will never press her or push her to speak, being a man of few words himself. But he's worried about her._

_When Ellie still hadn't returned after what felt like about thirty minutes, he got up to investigate._

_And that's how he finds her in the kitchen, at 2am according to the clock on the wall, baking in the slip that she uses as a nightie. He stays in the shadows for a few minutes, watching her knead some dough on the counter. Her face is unreadable from the distance he is, but by the way her hands are working, she must be angry. At least that's what he thinks until he hears the sniffle that carries across the room._

_"What are you doing, Ell?"_

_She doesn't respond at first, just continues to knead the dough silently. Forrest approaches her slowly, watching her, quietly waiting for her to speak. When she does, her voice is small. "Couldn't sleep."_

_Forrest approaches her from the side, slipping his arms around her waist as the tears fall down her cheeks. "So you decided to bake at two in the morning?"_

_Ellie lets out a sound, somewhere between a sniffle and a giggle. "I guess so." He shifts his body so that he's holding her from behind, watching in silence as she continues her work, fascinated by the rhythm and pattern of her hands. "Want to learn?" she asks when she realizes that he's watching her._

* * *

Forrest doesn't answer her right away, so she grabs his hands off her waist and just pushes them into the dough. She can't see his face since he's standing behind her, but she's sure it's priceless. There's something oddly sensual about them working the bread dough together, Ellie adding flour every so often and guiding his hands as they work. The longer he's pressed against her, helping her, the more she becomes aware of his breath stirring the hairs on his neck, the proximity of his body to hers.

Ellie deposits the dough into a bowl, pulling away from Forrest's hold so that she can get a towel. The water is hot as it slides between her fingers, cleaning the residue off. She wets and wrings out a towel, laying it across the bowl of dough so that it can rise.

She leans against the counter as Forrest washes his own hands, appreciating the musculature of his back and shoulders. She loves him, she realizes then. Forrest is her strength when she has none, her comfort when she needs it, an anchor when she feels so adrift.

"Forrest," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the running water. He cuts off the faucet and turns to her, closes the distance between them in two steps. Ellie can feel tears threatening to fall again, but for once these aren't painful, but pure joy.

"What is it, Ell?" he murmurs, his calloused fingers wet as they wipe the tears off her cheeks.

"I-" The words get stuck in her throat, like so many that have wanted to be spoken. But in this moment, the words don't seem to matter. So she tilts her chin up and kisses him. It is so gentle, so sweet and tender, that more tears spill over. Forrest runs holds her face in his hands, thumbs stroking her cheeks.

He breaks their kiss to put her onto a clean part of the counter, his palms warm on her waist as he lifts her. There is no urgency to his touch, Forrest holding her and caressing her as if she is fragile, breakable. His lips are soft on hers as his hands move up and down her body, desire starting to coil in her stomach as a sudden need to feel closer to him grips her. Ellie leans her head back with a sigh as he starts to kiss down her throat and across her shoulders, shivers of pleasure running up and down her spine.

"Tonight?" she whimpers as Forrest continues to kiss his way across her shoulder, sliding the straps of her slip aside as he goes until her top loosens and she is exposed to him.

Ellie arches into him, moaning as he takes a nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling until it has risen to a hard peak. "Not tonight, Ell," her speaks into her chest before moving onto her other breast, fingers pinching one nipple as his mouth laves the other.

She can't help but groan, both from the pleasure running up and down her spine and the frustration that he is bringing her. "When?"

Forrest stands upright again, each of his kisses more desperate and passionate than the last. He pulls away, his hands resting on her upper thighs as he considers his answer. His eyes are soft as they hold her gaze. "When you're healed. When the nightmares stop."

"And what if it never happens?" she whispers, feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"I just don't want to take advantage, Ell. Or it'll just hurt you more, in the end."

"So it's not because you don't want me?"

Forrest grips her backside to shift her hips toward the edge of the counter, and suddenly she can feel him pressing against her core, Ellie letting out a gasp of surprise and desire. "Don't you dare ever think it's because of that, Ell." She can't help but wrap her legs around him, a moan escaping her lips as he rubs against her. "Now let's see if we can figure out a way to help you sleep."

She's confused at first when he sinks to his knees in front of her. They've used their hands and fingers to please each other more times than she can count now. So she's surprised at the sudden feel of his tongue sliding up her heat. Her immediate reaction is to throw her head back and grip the counter so hard she's sure her knuckles are white. The feel of his tongue is so soft and slick, the sensation absolutely new and mind bending. "Oh Forrest," she breathes, her hips involuntarily pushing forward to press against his mouth.

His hands are firm on her thighs to keep her in place, his tongue insistent. The familiar pressure starts to build in her stomach, whines and moans escaping her lips. Forrest slides a finger inside of her, crooking it just so, stoking the fire that is burning within her.

The sensations are so new that the orgasm takes her by surprise, Ellie suddenly falls apart with a loud cry, wave after wave crashing over her as Forrest continues to lap at her heat. His grip on her hips is tight as she bucks. Her entire body is shaking at the intensity, her legs weak and her vision starting to blur. Right as she feels she's about to fade into unconsciousness, Forrest pulls away and stands, tongue flicking out to lick his lips before leaning in to kiss her. "Let's go to bed," he murmurs as he helps her down from the counter, her legs weak as they walk upstairs.

* * *

**A/N - **Updates may not be as frequent as they have been, I have some major personal issues happening right now. I will update when I can.

Please review!


	15. Chapter 15

"I know your secret, little peach."

Ellie starts at Howard's words, her stomach immediately contracting in fear. _How?_ she wants to say. Instead, she keeps her back to Howard and her eyes on the cornbread she's currently mixing for their dinner. "What are you talking about?" She's surprised that she's able to keep her voice from shaking.

"You and my brother." Ellie can't stop the sigh of relief that passes through her lips. That secret, she can handle the others knowing.

"Jack know?" she can't help but ask, turning to face the oldest Bondurant once she's sure her emotions are in check.

"That idiot has his head so far up Bertha's ass, he wouldn't notice if you two started necking right in front of him. Not that I'd recommend it. But I'm happy for you, you're good for each other."

Ellie gives him a shy smile, feeling a little relieved that they have the eldest's approval, at least. "Thank you, Howard."

"Ellie!" Jack cries as he enters the station, seeming a little more excited than usual. He runs up and lifts Ellie off her feet, spinning her in a circle as they both laugh.

"What's all this about?" she asks as he puts her back down, Jack's eyes sparkling with mirth.

"What's for dinner?" he asks evasively, looking away from her gaze as he speaks. Ellie notices that he dodges the question, but figures she'll find out the answer eventually. Jack wasn't exactly good about keeping his own secrets.

"Jack Bondurant, get away from my stove before you set something ablaze just by proximity," she teases, swatting at him with a towel until he retreats behind the bar where he belongs.

Ellie cooks while the brothers sit at the bar, bickering as usual. Forrest joins them not much later, a hint of a smile on his lips when she turns to him. Whether it's for her, or his brothers, or both, she doesn't know.

The sound of Howard and Jack arguing has become something of a comfort to her. It is something so familiar and normal that it brings a smile to her face. A pang of some undescribed emotion hits her chest as she stirs the greens in their skillet. It's not nostalgia, but something close to it, more like wistfulness. Is this what her life may have been like had her mother not died? Would she have had brothers to tend to, to look out for her, to cheer her up? Is this what her family could have been?

Once she's satisfied that all the dishes are cooked to her approval, she sets the table along with the brothers' help. In the months that she's been at Blackwater, they all know their tasks without having to discuss them, allowing the brothers to continue their conversation. Jack gathers dishes and silverware, Howard the drinks. Ellie carries the dishes to the table with Forrest's assistance. She gives him a special smile and blushes slightly when she hands him the bread, memories of their previous night together slamming into the forefront of her mind. Forrest chuckles softly, shaking his head as he takes his usual seat.

As dishes are passed around the table and they serve themselves, Jack clears his throat. "I got something to say."

"Well speak up, then, boy," Howard encourages, shooting Forrest a knowing look before digging into his meal.

"I asked Bertha to marry me. And she said yes."

Ellie knocks her chair over in her excitement to reach Jack, throwing her arms around his shoulders as true happiness runs through her at the news. "Congratulations!"

"Yeah, congrats for being young and stupid," Howard grumbles.

Ellie extricates herself from their hug to look at the eldest Bondurant. He says nothing else, keeps his eyes on his plate as he shovels food down at a fast pace. They all stare at him, shocked. Howard keeps his silence, clearing his plate in record time before grabbing his hat and heading out the door.

* * *

_Ellie lays on her side, facing Forrest in bed, his hand on her hip and his fingers tracing patterns on her skin through her nightie. The warmth beneath his touch is just as enticing as it ever has been, her beauty evident even in the dim light of their room. But tonight, there is a weight to his heart as he looks upon her. Jack's news, while unsurprising, has sent him thinking of his own relationship with Ellie._

_He loves her, of that there is no doubt. He's not sure exactly when the feelings he has for her grew into something so strong. But it's been there for some time, hiding under the surface, just waiting for him to realize it. He loves her, more than he knew was possible._

_But underneath that love lies doubt. Ellie deserves everything the world has to offer her, after so much of her innocence has been stolen from her. To lose both her parents, her home, to be attacked and raped, to lose a child. She has been through so much. And it nags at him, eats at him, it worries him that she will know nothing but more pain if she stays with him. His work is dangerous. He wants more for her, something better. Maybe even someone better. Someone who does honest, or more specifically, legitimate work and doesn't get shot at regularly._

_"What do you think about Jack?" she asks, interrupting his thoughts. Her fingers run lazily through Forrest's hair as he closes his eyes at her touch. "You didn't say anything at dinner."_

_He doesn't speak for a moment, his jaw working as he chews over his words. "Good for him, I suppose. Jack is Jack. He'll be alright."_

_"What about Howard? What was all of that about?"_

_Forrest lets out a sigh. "Let's just say Howard was young and stupid once too."_

_Ellie wiggles her body closer to him until he instinctively envelops her in his arms, her scent tickling his nose. "How do you mean?"_

_"He's married, Ell."_

_She props herself up on her elbow to survey him, the look of shock on her face nearly laughable. "_What?_"_

_"After he came back from the war, proposed to just about the first woman he laid eyes on."_

_"Where is she now?"_

_"Around. I don't even know the last time he saw her."_

_Ellie collapses back on the bed, nestling her head into his chest when he pulls her back into his arms and sighs. He can imagine she's not quite sure what to say to that. Hell, most days he doesn't either. He just lets Howard be._

_She's quiet for so long that he's sure she's fallen asleep. When she speaks again, it's barely above a whisper. "What about you Forrest?"_

_"Not sure I'm the marrying type," he answers truthfully, though his stomach clenches at the admission. He knows the words are harsh, but they're honest. Though he would marry Ellie in a heartbeat if he thought it was what was best for her. Unfortunately, he doesn't think it is._

* * *

**A/N - Please, please review! They really do make my world go round. And I love you all! Yes, really.**


	16. Chapter 16

The cold metal pressing against her palm is an unfamiliar feeling to Ellie, causing her to look up as Forrest pushes a gun into her hand. She briefly recognizes it as the one he usually keeps by the bed. "W-w-w-what," she stutters before having to swallow and start again. "What is that for?"

"We gotta leave you alone today, Ell." His voice is rough and low. She knows him well enough now to detect the undercurrent of uneasiness and fear in it, immediately kicking her own anxiety up a notch.

"Forrest, I don't know how-"

He takes the gun from her, showing her the mechanics of it while muttering instructions in a low tone. Her hands shake as she takes it back from him, unloading and loading the bullets back slowly while trying not to drop them on the floor, trying to demonstrate what she just learned. "Ell, relax. You probably won't have to use it, but I don't want you here without something."

_Don't go_, she wants to say. She has no doubt that James will show up when they are all gone. Her only hope is that the station stays busy enough that he will not get her on her own. There's already a few customers now, so hopefully that'll stay steady for however long Forrest and the brothers are gone. Even with the threat of James above her head, she doesn't tell him. She wants to beg him, plead with him to stay, tell him the truth, tell him everything. To finally lift the heavy weight that's been on her chest since she first lied to him by shaking her head no in the hospital. But like the prideful woman she is, she remains silent as she continues to learn how to work the gun with shaking hands.

He presses one single touch to the small of her back, just two fingers to reassure her. But instead, she jumps at the contact from nerves. Seeing her reaction, he tuts under his breath. "I'll stay then," he mutters, offering Ellie an open palm for her to pass him the revolver back.

"No, no, Forrest." _What are you doing?_ "Don't stay on my account, I'll have the gun."

He steps back and gives her his most penetrating glare. Every part of Ellie wants to wilt in it, to succumb to his stare, but some part of her refuses and meets it instead. "You sure, Ell?"

"Everything's ready, Forrest," Howard announces from the front door of the station, eyeing the two of them with detached interest.

"Yeah, Forrest, I'm sure." Though her voice would indicate she isn't, he still takes her at her word. Just briefly, he brushes the back of his fingers against her cheek. The warmth of his touch lingers as he leaves.

* * *

Through some unknown, quiet miracle, the station stays busy. James doesn't even show up. Ellie can't stop the sigh of relief that escapes her when Forrest walks back in the door a few hours later. He immediately heads her way, his jaw set, fire burning in his eyes. "Anything happen?"

"No, Forrest," she soothes while handing him back the gun. "Nothing happened."

He gives her a grunt and a nod as he tucks the revolver in the back of his pants. "I'm, ah," he starts before picking up a piece of cornbread that she had cut earlier, now cooling on the counter. He pauses to take a few bites, only continuing once he's swallowed. "This is gonna happen more often, Ell. We're closin' up early today, while it's still light enough. I'm going to teach you to shoot."

The very idea floods her with so many conflicting feelings that it seems like she should be lifted off her feet by them. Relief, that she'll know how to defend herself. Fear, that she might get hurt. Or may have to hurt someone else. Nerves, that she might be terrible at it. And then there's a sudden feeling of power. Power over James, should he ever return again when she's alone. She can feel her cheeks flush at that final thought, removing her gaze from Forrest's and turning back to her cooking. "Lunch'll be ready soon then, Forrest."

"Alright." He passes behind her on the way to his office, tantalizingly close, his breath on the back of her neck for one moment and then he's gone. It's enough to send her heart racing again. Jack and Howard stomp in not too long afterwards, giving her a quick hug each before running off to get cleaned up. Ellie thinks she even spies some blood on Howard's clothes, but says nothing.

* * *

_There's something nearly sexy about the sight of Ellie holding a gun. The entire session so far had been far more erotic than he would have expected. Having to press his body close to hers to show her the right stance, how to hold the gun correctly, how to aim. One hand on her stomach and the other on her shoulder to try to help her stay steady for the first few shots. They were wide, unsurprisingly. Even scared off a few of the chickens. But as the sun set, her aim got better. Now, he stands away from her to observe, watching as she hits two of the five targets he had set out for her, some old oil cans and cracked mason jars that had reached the end of their useful life. Truthfully, if she ever had to use the gun it would be in a lot closer proximity than from where she was standing. But it makes him feel better that she would have at least some range._

_"Better, Ell," he grumbles. The way her face lights up at his words makes him feel warm inside. She apparently forgets herself and what she has in her hand, because before he can stop it she's jumping up and wrapping her legs around his waist, gripping onto him in joy. "The gun, Ellie."_

_"Oh, shit!" she giggles, covering her mouth with one hand as he lets her down. She hands him the gun like he showed her, revolver open to show that it's empty and then from there, handle first._

_"My brothers are a bad influence on you." They're alone behind the station so he tucks the gun back into the waistband of his pants before taking Ellie into his arms, nuzzling into her hair and inhaling deeply. Heaven must smell like her. The light of the setting sun makes her look like she's glowing within. Not for the first time, and he's sure not for the last, he is struck by her beauty._

_"You gave me my first taste of booze and you just taught me to fire a gun, Forrest. I think it's safe to say that you're a bad influence too."_

_He holds her even tighter at her words. Because that's exactly what he's afraid of._

* * *

**A/N - Sorry it's been so long between updates everybody! Still adjusting to what I'm calling my "new normal". Please, please comment. I can't tell you how much they make my day.**


	17. Chapter 17

It's when the station grows quiet that Ellie's nerves are most on edge. For a few weeks now, the Bondurant brothers have had to leave her alone at the station, never quite clear on the reason. But she knows that they wouldn't do it if it weren't important. It may have only been six months now that she's been at the station, but she knows they feel for her just as she feels for them. They're family. Except Forrest. Forrest is something else entirely.

She's heard neither hide nor hair from James in a few weeks, but that does nothing to calm her. It's another game, Ellie's sure of it. A guessing game of when he will pop up to torture her again and will he come in when the brothers are gone. Not for the first time, she wishes she could just tell Forrest. But it's been months now since the initial attack, she can't. To admit that she's lied all this time, hidden the truth. Ellie shudders at the thought of how Forrest would react. Not well.

She wipes down the bar top with a damp rag, fingering the gun that rests on the shelves beneath it as she does. The cool feel of the metal against her skin gives her some confidence, but not much. Forrest has taken her out to practice shooting a few times now, and her aim has gotten much better. But there is a difference between shooting oil cans and glass jars and an actual person. Thankfully, she's had no need to use it yet. Yet.

There's a squeak as the screen door opens and Ellie immediately looks up and freezes for a moment. "Hello, little peach."

She immediately shifts her eyes down to the shelves and it only takes a moment's decision to pocket the gun in her apron. As long as she stays behind the bar, hidden from the waist down, he won't be able to tell that there's a heft weighing it down. Maybe she won't even have to use it, maybe he's just here to watch her squirm for a little while before leaving. One more glance up at James and she can tell that won't be the case. There's that glint in his eye, enough to make her unconsciously take a step back away from him as he approaches the bar.

"James, please."

"Been waiting for me, haven't you?" There's only one word for the way he approaches her, he's stalking, calmly moving forward in the most predatory manner she's ever seen on a person. Quickly, she fumbles in the front of her apron, pulling the gun and raising it, arms shaking the entire time. James only scoffs. "Like you could use that on a person, little peach."

"Stop calling me that," Ellie threatens, hackles raised. His cool words are shooting adrenaline through her, her fear rapidly turning into anger. This is the man that raped her, embarrassed her, impregnated her, yanked away her innocence without her having any say in the matter. The man that has tortured her for months, made sleeping impossible, the wedge that's been there between her and Forrest. "You have no right to call me anything, not anymore. Leave."

"Aw, don't be like that, little peach. I only took what you were too afraid to ask for."

The gunshot is twice as loud indoors, Ellie's ears ringing as she stares at the gun in her hand in disbelief. James is in the fetal position on the floor, bleeding from … his leg? But she had been aiming for his head?

"You alright, Ell?"

It's only then that the pieces fall together. Forrest is framed in the doorway, Howard looking over his shoulder as the two step inside. Forrest was the one that pulled the trigger. And he probably heard everything.

"Howard, take him out back. We'll deal with him." Ellie drops the pistol on the bar top, collapsing on the floor immediately after and sobbing in relief. It's short lived as Forrest's heavy footsteps approach, his hand tight on her upper arm as he pulls her upright. It takes her a moment to find her feet but she eventually does, starting at the floor the entire time. "Look at me Ell."

The anger in Forrest's voice is frightening and Ellie can't help but start shaking again. It takes a few deep breaths before she lifts her chin and meets his eyes. There is not a single drop of pity or understanding, only anger in his glare. "It was him. The entire time, it was him, wasn't it."

It doesn't even come out as a question, more a statement that he just wants her confirmation on. Not trusting her own voice, Ellie nods, just once.

"So you lied to me."

The tears start to fall again. She wants to tear her eyes away from his accusing glare, but she's held there, finally being forced to admit the truth after all this time. Ellie nods again before finally warbling out "I'm sorry."

A snarl escapes from Forrest as he turns away in disgust, pausing once before leaving. "Close up. Go upstairs. Don't come down."

* * *

James' cries keep Ellie awake for most of the night. She tries to sleep, tossing and turning in the bed that she and Forrest share, but it's impossible with his pained moans floating up through the rafters and into the second floor. The noises eventually end, and she can't help but wonder if it was because they let him go or if they just killed him.

Forrest's footsteps are heavy on the stairs, slow and deliberate. Ellie sits up expectantly, finally ready to talk about it, to get everything out and make everything okay again. But then his footsteps fall away from the door and it hits her. He's sleeping in the spare room tonight.

* * *

_He rises early, not having slept much the night before. Forrest tossed and turned all night, debating. The lie. His Ellie lied to him. He can almost understand, almost. She never really talked about it, verbalizing the name as well as the action probably was too much for her. But still. If there's one thing he can't stand, it's dishonesty._

There is a change of clothes hanging on the laundry line outside so he grabs that instead of sneaking into his own room. He can't help but mumble as he dresses, kicked out of his damn bedroom, but he prefers this to facing Ellie right now. As much as he hates the idea, he made the decision last night and he knows what he needs to do. So he heads into town as the sun rises, determined to break his own heart and hers.

* * *

**A/N - Tommy released his stranglehold on me long enough to get another chapter written! We're approaching the end gang. Thank you for making this my most popular story on here. And if you haven't yet, check out my newest fic Without Leave. Please comment, rec, all the good stuff. And thanks for all the support, again. I cannot express how much it all means to me, really.**


	18. Chapter 18

Ellie wakes with a start, but this time, the nightmare is different. It has to do with Forrest, that much she's sure of, but the details are fuzzy even as she tries to grasp at the smoke of the images long after she's conscious. The bed is cold beside her and she remembers that she slept alone the night before, noises of James' pain haunting her memories.

She stretches and yawns, running her fingers through her hair before padding into the bathroom. Unable to stop herself, she checks in on the spare bedroom first, slightly disappointed that Forrest isn't there. Nothing sounds better than crawling into bed next to him, waking him with fingers tangled into his hair and wandering hands. But not this morning, apparently.

Ellie puts special effort into looking nice, taking care with her hair and picking out the peach-colored dress that she believes is Forrest's favorite. He's never told her as much, but the heat in his glare when she wears it tells her a lot.

Almost warily, she makes her way downstairs, feeling nearly ridiculously cautious. Ellie finds Forrest already awake, coffee brewed, apparently waiting for her.

"Morning." It comes out almost as a question, the uncertainty leaking into her voice.

"Come sit, Ellie." Just the use of her usual moniker is enough to pull her up short. Forrest has always called her Ell, always. But at least he's not calling her Eleanor? It's still enough to send her heart racing. She lied, sure, but that wasn't enough to erase everything, was it? She takes her time pouring herself a cup of coffee, adding a little cream and sugar before joining him at the table.

"You've been here for a while now, think it's best you be moving on."

Every word sends a deeper crack into her heart and she has to fight off tears. "But … but Forrest." Ellie takes a few deep, steadying breaths before she continues. "I'm sorry, I lied, I know I did and I felt so bad the entire time, but is that really all it takes-"

"I'm not good for you, Eleanor. You said it yourself, I'm, ah," he pauses, sipping his own coffee. "I'm a bad influence on you, we all are. You're too good for us."

It takes every ounce of self-control in her body not to start sobbing right then and there. "Forrest," she pleads. "Don't, don't do this. Please."

"I found someone in town, will put you up, give you some good, honest kitchen work."

"Don't, please don't."

Forrest is obviously uncomfortable with the conversation, his fingers playing with any available surface on his coffee mug that they can reach. "You start tomorrow. Jack will drive you later today." Done with the conversation, he stands, grabbing his hat with one hand and his coffee with the other before heading into his office and closing the door.

Ellie waits until the sound echoes through the station before breaking down and sobbing, head nestled into the crook of her elbow as she lays her head on the table.

* * *

Once, she thought there was nothing more heartbreaking than packing up her suitcase while the bank took her father's farm. Or losing her father. Time had healed those wounds fairly effectively, though life had provided new ones to survive. But through it all, she had had Forrest. He was her rock, the calm in the eye of the storm. But as she packs her suitcase, she realizes that losing that, losing him, is more painful than all of that. She loves him. It is as simple and heartbreaking as that. She loves him, and he doesn't want her anymore.

Carefully, she packs away her dresses, the picture she has of her parents, every little possession she's accumulated since coming to Blackwater. Small trinkets from Jack and Howard, worthless except for the inherent value they possess to her and her alone. And from Forrest, the last bunch of wildflowers he left for her that she pressed into a book to preserve them.

Ellie makes her way downstairs to find all three brothers waiting for her, looking especially somber. Howard is first, waiting at the bottom of the staircase to sweep her into a hug and spin her around the station. "I'm not dying, Howard, I'll still be around town," she comforts as he places her back on her feet, sly grin on his face as always.

"I know, little peach. I'll miss you just the same." The peck on her cheek he leaves before exiting the back door nearly has her crying.

And then Jack, sweet Jack is waiting for her next. He doesn't tell her goodbye, not yet. He'll be the one driving her anyway. So instead he takes her suitcase, giving Ellie a nod of his head and a tip of his hat before leaving her alone with Forrest.

He waits for her a few feet away from the screen door, one whose sound will still likely haunt her forever. It is the sound of good and bad. Of James' entrances into the station, but also of the brothers'. She hesitates, pausing in front of Forrest, waiting to see how he might treat her. Stoic as ever, he doesn't touch her, doesn't reach out, run the back of his knuckles across her cheekbones as he used to do so often, or bury his head into the crook between her head and her shoulder. Instead, he just watches, though his eyes are soft as he does.

Throwing caution to the wind, Ellie throws herself at him, sobbing, wishing things were different but knowing enough of the stubborn brother now to know that he won't change his mind otherwise. Still she says it, because it would hurt too much not to ever have the words leave her lips. "I love you, Forrest."

"Oh, Ell," he sighs, taking her into his arms for what she's sure is the final time. She can feel his shirt wetting, sticking to his skin as she cries into his chest. Forrest pulls her back, his fingers tipping her chin up so that he can look her in the eyes when he says it. "You deserve better than me, better than this." And at that he releases her and leaves through the back door.

* * *

The ride into town is quiet, Jack kindly not mentioning the tears streaming down Ellie's face as he drives. Instead, he reaches over, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. Sweet Jack. He has always been so kind to her, always so excited to see her as if each time he came inside from his duties, her presence was a novelty. Always appreciative of her cooking, probably because he's so bad at it himself. She can't help but snort in laughter in between the tears, shaking her head at the thought. "Don't burn Blackwater down now that I'll be gone, alright Jack?"

He's quiet as he pulls into the parking lot of the local hotel, cutting off the engine and sitting for a moment before turning to her with a sad smile on his face. "I won't. Just for you, Miss Ellie, I won't."

"Oh Jack," Ellie cries, sniffling as the tears start afresh again.

"None of that now," he whispers, wiping the tears off her cheek. "Can't have you crying when you meet your new employer, can we? Chin up. You're still the sweetest peach in all of Virginia."

She can't help but smile, wiping away the last vestiges of her pain off her cheeks and taking a few deep breaths. Jack exits the truck, grabbing her suitcase before opening the door for her like the gentleman he is.

* * *

**A/N - I cannot even begin to tell you how hard this chapter was to write. I broke my own damn heart with it, I literally was crying as I was writing it. Please, please review. Let me know what you thought. Did it make you tear up too?**


	19. Chapter 19

_He's silent as he stares at the dying wildflowers dotting the field next to the station, absentmindedly fingering the brass knuckles that permanently reside in the pocket of his cardigan. Jack is droning on about the reception next to him, but all Forrest can think of was Ellie. Months had passed, and still the ache in his heart hadn't lessened, the pit in his stomach hadn't shrunk. Not for the first time, he second guesses his decision, sending her off. But it was for the best, as much as it broke him to admit it._

She didn't belong in their world. Even after she had lost everything, she was still sweet and caring, kind and somehow innocent. Their business was a dangerous one, one that would eventually break her the same as it broke him. She deserved more, deserved better. At least that's what he keeps telling himself. But it doesn't help him sleep at night.

He misses her warmth, both in body heat and affection. Especially her cooking. Forrest has to fight off a chuckle at the thought. Jack's skills certainly hadn't grown since she had left. They still need to repaint after his most recent accident. Then again, even if he knew how to cook things the way his Ell did, they would still be missing something. Because she wouldn't be the one making it.

"Forrest, you even paying attention?" Jack calls from beside him. He grunts his assent, though his brother seems to see right through it. "Just go to her. I've seen her, you know I have. She misses you too."

He shakes his head, pulling a cigar out of his pocket and lighting it instead. "Time heals all wounds."

* * *

"Time heals all wounds, you know." Ellie is snapped out of her thoughts by the words of her employer, Mrs. Scarborough.

"I know, ma'am," she replies, returning back to slicing the apples that were just begging to be made into pie. It is the last harvest of the season, so she takes extra care so the taste of her final pies will keep them through the winter.

She has known Mrs. Scarborough all her life, even approached her before turning to the Bondurants for help when she had lost the farm. But she had no openings then. Apparently with a little persuasion from Forrest, that had changed quickly.

Ellie despised it at first. The work was the same, but the atmosphere was completely different. She had no control, the old lady requiring her to use her own family recipes and not Ellie's. While she was grateful that she was providing room and board, the rules were ludicrous. No alcohol. No smoking. No members of the opposite sex. Howard and Jack had both tried to bend that rule at one point or another but to no avail. But surprisingly Bertha had visited her on more than one occasion, a surprising friendship starting to bloom between the two women.

Slowly, she started to understand what it was like to be her own woman. What it meant to control her own money, to be responsible. Slowly she started to understand her father's mistakes. Why he lost the farm. He was so caught up in buying her things that he thought would make her happy, he didn't consider her future or the future of the farm itself.

As time passed, her time away from Blackwater had become more tolerable. But still, she misses him. To the point that her chest hurts from the ache. His arms wrapped around her as they sat on the porch or by the fire. The way his eyes would soften when he looked at her, even surrounded by others. The feel of his hair beneath her fingers, her regular haircuts a thing of the past. The way he would make her writhe beneath his touch, and him hers. The feel of his arms around her waist as they fell asleep each night to the sound of the cicadas and the pull of alcohol. And the rare smiles, that would turn his lips up just so, not enough for most to catch but certainly enough for her.

"You see here," Mrs. Scarborough demands, shaking her finger in her direction. "You are better off without that Bondurant, you hear me?"

Slowly she nods her head, though she doesn't believe it, not for one moment. "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Ellie surveys herself in the muddled mirror, hands brushing down her thighs to smooth the skirt out on her new dress. Peach colored lace trims the collar and sleeves, but the dress itself is a pale blue, the color nearly an exact match to her eyes. Her hands move to her hair, puffing it up a bit with her palm. She knows she will see him today. As anti-social as he is, not even Forrest would miss his own brother's wedding reception. It's not that she expects any change in how she feels or how he does. But if she's going to face him down, she might as well look her best.

There's a short knock on her door, Mrs. Scarborough alerting her to the arrival of her son that is to take her to Blackwater. One last critical check of her appearance, one last pinch of her cheeks and she's grabbing her wedding present and heading out the door.

* * *

_He senses her as soon as she walks in. The party is in full swing, band playing a quick little ditty, the liquor flowing, food being grazed over as their guests laugh and mingle. Her eyes meet his from across the main floor of the station and he can feel his stomach drop. Every single utterance and reassurance he had ever said to himself while she had been gone flies out the window._

She is utterly stunning, somehow more beautiful than he remembered. It's enough to take his breath away. Forrest is torn between running to her and taking her into his arms, audience be damned, and escaping, going upstairs until she leaves. Instead he is held in place by her stare, by the curve of her lips as she sees him, like she only has eyes for him and him only.

It seems as if Ellie is floating towards him, elegant and graceful as always. His heart stutters in his chest, though he keeps a straight face as she approaches. Forrest has faced down heavily armed men, intent on ending his life, some even making a valiant effort to prove that he wasn't invincible. But never, never has he been more afraid as he watches her come towards him.

* * *

**A/N - Review, review, review. Favorite it.  
Seriously.  
You guys have no idea how much each little one means to me. I am a very self-conscious author at best. Your feedback means the world.**


	20. Chapter 20

When she walks into Blackwater, he's the first person she sees. And he looks like he has eyes for her and her alone. Ellie's lips curve up into a small smile, heart hammering as she starts to weave her way through the boisterous crowd, not once averting her eyes, holding his stare. The way he's looking at her, sad and happy all at the same time, it's almost like he regrets ever making her leave. It makes her remember just how much she loves him, but just how heartbroken she still is at the same time.

She's about half-way across the room when a set of arms grabs her around the waist before picking her up and spinning her around. The laugh in her ear she knows can be no one else. "Howard, put me down before I kick somebody," she chuckles as he stops his rotation and just keeps her in a tight hug with her feet dangling inches from the ground.

"We've missed you, little peach."

Howard finally sets her down, looking a little bleary eyed and intoxicated as he pulls back to look at her, but the smile is the same as she remembers, full of impish mischief and glee. "I missed you too," she replies back, amazed that she's able to keep from crying.

His face sombers as he takes her in, even stepping back and encouraging her to do a little spin for him. "New dress, hm?"

Ellie blushes, looking to the floor for a moment before raising her eyes to his again. "Yes, I wanted to look nice for-"

"The wedding?" There's a sadness in Howard's eyes; they both know what she wanted to say.

She gives him a little sad smile, heartbreak settling on her heavier than before. When Forrest made her leave, it wasn't just him she lost, but the brothers that she had grown to love as well. Howard seems to sense it because he takes a deep breath and puts on a wide grin. "Come on, I know Jack and Bertha want to see you too." As Howard tugs on her arm to drag her across the room, Ellie can't help but look back to where Forrest was standing before to find him gone.

* * *

_As the sun sets and the party continues, Forrest finds his own shadowy corner to lurk in, unable to help but continue to track Ellie's movements around the station as he sips from his jar of moonshine. Had she always been so radiant? Carried herself so well, laughed that loud or smiled that wide? Watching her dance with his brothers, the happiness that positively glows from within her makes him want to do nothing but toss her over his shoulder and take her upstairs so he can show exactly how much he misses her. Tell her he loves her, to come home. But he doesn't. He just watches, fingers fisting into the fabric of his cardigan every so often until he's sure his knuckles are white._

_Unable to take it anymore, he stands, sticking to the walls to make his way outside for some much needed air._

* * *

"You've gotten better!" she laughs as Howard spins her around to what must be the fifth song in a row. She doesn't mind, her toes are in much better shape than the last time they danced. And as long as he's keeping her occupied, she's not focusing so much on Forrest. But he's there, in the back of her mind, same as always, a nagging persistent pain, a whisper in her ear every time she feels a bit of joy. She knows Howard is intentionally keeping her attention, trying to distract her from what he must know is a painful visit to the station.

Howard chuckles, his smile wide. "Been practicing just for you, little peach."

"Jack been practicing his cooking?" Ellie calls out to be heard over the music, already shaking her head at what she's sure the answer will be.

"If burning everything in sight is practicin', then yeah."

The song ends, the little band striking up another tune almost immediately afterwards. Howard moves to pull her into a dance again but Ellie shakes her head, running a hand up the back of her neck to remove the sweat that had started to accumulate. "I need some air, Howard. I'll be back in a minute or so. Think you can find me a little applejack though?" she says with a wink, the oldest Bondurant nodding his acceptance before letting her go out to the porch on her own.

There's a slight breeze, Ellie closing her eyes as she leans against one of the posts as she takes a deep breath and sighs. When she opens them again, she looks around and can't help but notice that her chair is still where it used to be, next to Forrest's with the little table next to it. There's something about it that warms her a bit, comforts her, like there's still a place for her here despite everything.

"Never had the heart to move it."

Her head turns so fast she's surprised she doesn't suffer whiplash. And there he is, walking with a cigar in his teeth, that same confident swagger that he always held. There's a bit of a weight to it tonight though, like he's dragging something heavy along with him. Ellie leans against the railing of the porch, watching as he comes into the light so she can see him better. "Forrest," she breathes, not trusting herself to say anything else.

"Ell." She has to close her eyes against the tears that are already threatening to spill. How many times had she thought of her name on his lips, prayed that he would call her Ell again and not just Ellie? She never expected it to hurt so much, because she knows it changes nothing.

His footsteps are heavy as he climbs the stairs in silence, stopping a few feet away. Ellie wants nothing more than to throw herself into his arms but stops herself, pinching the skin of her upper arm as she crosses her arms and faces him. So many emotions are conflicting within her, anger, hurt, fear so she says nothing, just looks into his eyes, searching for some kind of sign. But he gives none.

The tension is thick and she has no idea what to do to cut into it, to end it. So she doesn't, walking past him to go back inside but not before she hears her name on his lips again. Ellie doesn't stop.

* * *

**A/N - Yet another chapter that broke my heart to write. The stubborn, prideful asses. Thanks so much for continuing to read, for bearing with me when it goes a while between chapters. Please comment, they make my day.**


	21. Chapter 21

"I can't deal with you anymore."

Ellie looks up from the potatoes she's peeling, confused. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Scarborough, if I'm doing something wrong, I can fix it."

The old woman sighs, sitting in the vacant chair next to her as she surveys Ellie over her bifocals. "It's been nine months and you're still pouting."

"I'm not-"

Mrs. Scarborough cuts her off with a glare. "You're pouting and pining after that ass of a man. It doesn't help that you've got a smart mouth and you still mess up my family recipes."

Sheer and utter panic sets in before she calms herself with a few deep breaths. Would she be homeless again? No, she was smart enough to save, though unfortunately it's a meager amount. But she is determined not to let herself sink down into that hole again. She's a woman now, not some frightened little girl that needs to rely on the help of others. "How long until I have to be out?"

Ellie's unable to read the look the older woman shoots her before standing, returning a moment later and sliding an envelope across the table. "Go bring this to Forrest. Tell him that your services are no longer required and he can have this back."

"Should I pack before I leave?" It's a wonder that she keeps her voice from shaking, but she does.

"Just go down to Blackwater, child."

It only takes Mrs. Scarborough's son a few minutes to pull the truck around, Ellie nervously pacing the foyer while she tries to think up a plan. The honk of the truck horn pulls her out of her own head, and it's only when she goes to grab the envelope off of the table that it opens slightly and she sees a flash of green. Money? Why would Mrs. Scarborough be sending Forrest money?

She chews on the thought for the drive, eyes unfocused on the scenery as they travel down the road to the station. It's only as they're pulling into the parking lot that the pieces fall into place. How else could Forrest have found her lodging and employment so quickly? He paid. And apparently continued to do so or Mrs. Scarborough wouldn't be sending her over with money. The thought makes her ridiculously and inexplicably angry. And she knows exactly who she needs to talk to about it.

Ellie stomps across the lot but pauses on the bottom of the first step at a flash of color on her right, smiling to herself sadly for a moment when she sees the wildflowers are starting to bloom again. The memory of all the times she woke up to them next to her side of the bed makes her stomach clench. She shakes her head as if to clear it before continuing her determined walk into the station.

Forrest is sitting at the bar, drinking coffee and eyeing her almost warily as she storms in. The sight of him almost makes her stop in her tracks, like walking into a brick wall. But Ellie doesn't stop, walking over to him in angry determination.

"Why is Mrs. Scarborough giving you money, Forrest?"

"Hi Ellie." She all but throws the envelope at him, though it's not as satisfying when he just gives it back to her. "Keep it."

"I don't need your pity or your charity anymore, Forrest."

The look he gives her is so utterly dark that she takes a step back and gasps softly. "Pity? Charity? That's what you thought? What you think?"

"Well when you toss me out like you did-" Forrest cuts her off with a steady stare before standing and walking across the station floor to wave off Mrs. Scarborough's son, the engine of the truck audible from even inside. "That was my ride!"

"Not anymore."

Ellie leans against the bar, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to match his angry glare with her own. "Why did you do that?"

"Because we need to talk."

The snort that escapes her is far from ladylike but the statement is so damn ludicrous that she can't help herself. "You missed that opportunity nine months ago when you threw me out for one lie. Please take me back into town now."

"No."

"You infuriating, stubborn-"

"When did you get this angry?" he asks her with a sideways look. "Where did my sweet Ell go?"

"She left when you kicked me out!"

Forrest looks away from her, suddenly unable to meet her eye. "The lie never mattered. I only did what was best for you, Ell."

Something snaps in her then. She marches across the floor until she is inches away from him. He doesn't flinch, of course he doesn't, but there's a change in his demeanor, something she can't quite place. "And do I not get any say in the fucking matter?"

"Ell!"

"You taught me the word and I'm angry, you don't expect me to use it?"

"I want so much more for you-"

She cuts him off with a glare this time, something that shocks them both. "And if this is all I want?" Ellie hastily wipes the back of her hand across her cheek as the first tear falls. "If I think nothing can get any better than this? Than you, than your brothers, than Blackwater?"

"Ell-"

"Nine months, Forrest, and I am as miserable as I ever was. Tell me you're not, too. Tell me I'm wrong. Lie to me like I lied to you so that you can take me back into town and I can pack my things and find a new place to live. Lie to me so that I can learn how to live with the misery of not seeing you every day or touching you or laughing with your brothers. Tell me you don't love me like I love you."

"I-"

"Lie to me!" she screams, her voice breaking and the tears falling freely as she clenches her fists at her sides. "Do it!"

* * *

**A/N - I know you guys are going to kill me for this one. But um, sorry, couldn't help myself. Please comment!**


	22. Chapter 22

_She had always been beautiful to him. But angry, she looked like a fallen angel, ready to seek vengeance for the wrongs committed against her, not only by him but by everyone._

_"Lie to me!" she screamed in his face, her gorgeous blue eyes watering and her voice cracking on the yell. "Do it!"_

_It is the most selfish thing he has ever done in his life. Every ounce of logic is thrown out the window, every stubborn thought he ever had that it was better this way, better for her no matter how much it stung him. He can't stop himself from pulling his sweet Ell into his arms and slanting his lips to hers, kissing her with such passion and fervor that she just cries harder, choking on her sobs as he whispers her name against her flesh. Pulling back, he pushes her hair off of her forehead, calloused hand cupping her cheek as he leans down to rest his forehead against hers. "I can't. I can't lie to you."_

_"Say it," she whispers, her words only audible because the station is so quiet. "Tell me, Forrest. Tell me and I'm yours forever. I don't want anyone else, anything else."_

_Forrest closes his eyes, their noses touching as he takes a few deep, steadying breaths. He opens them again, staring into Ellie's while wiping tears from her cheek with his thumb. "I love you, Ell. Always will."_

* * *

It feels as if her heart burst. She's where she belongs again, in his arms, his touch warm on her cheek. It has been so long but it's all so familiar, the feel of his callouses on her skin, his lips moving against hers, his smell. But most of all she feels whole, no longer empty, the void he left full again. "I'm sorry I lied," she whispers between kisses. It's then that she notices Forrest has been slowly walking her backwards, one of the tables hitting her rear. He quickly lifts her until she's just on the edge, her hips still scooted forward that he can touch every inch of her.

Forrest pulls back to study her, his fingers cutting through her hair on their way to the back of her neck before making their way to ghost over her collarbone. "I know, Ell." He is handling her as if she is fragile, as if any show of strength would break and shatter her. And it's absolutely heart wrenching, that he would take such care with her. His fingers trace the scar on her neck, his eyes soft and looking nearly guilty.

She closes her eyes to the touch, head lolling back as she's pulled back into the memory of all the times he cared for her wound, the gentle hand he would use even then. Ellie nuzzles into his touch as his hand smoothes up her cheek again, heart pounding yet somehow calmed through Forrest's soft caress. It's like he's memorizing her again, the backs of his fingers brushing against her exposed skin, followed by his lips, her hands fisting into his cardigan, like if she lets go he'll leave again.

"I missed you, Ell." She can feel the breath of his whisper against her temple, the words causing tears to start slipping out again.

"Please don't make me leave again." It slips out before she can stop it but she's glad it is said, not living on the tip of her tongue and making her miserable.

Forrest leans in to kiss each individual tear off of her cheek before pressing his lips to hers once more. "Never again."

* * *

The shriek that comes out of Howard's mouth sounds something like what she thinks a banshee would sound like. He all but runs behind the bar laughing, picking Ellie up into one of his giant hugs, swinging her around before placing her back on her feet. "Oh little peach, welcome home."

She knows the smile on her face is a goofy one, but she can't help it. She's where she's supposed to be. She's home.

"What's for dinner?"

Ellie laughs before turning back to the stove, shaking her head. Some things will never change. And they shouldn't. Her ears perk when she hears more boot falls on the porch and she knows exactly what's coming next.

"Miss Ellie? That really you?"

Like the excitable puppy he is, Jack runs to sweep her into one of his hugs, laughing as he pulls back to look at her. "You're right where you belong again, Miss Ellie."

Bertha peeks out from behind her husband, giving her one of her sweet smiles as she steps out from behind Jack. Ellie gasps at the sight of her protruding stomach, hiding her grin behind her hand. "You need any help?" Bertha asks, one hand on her belly and the other resting on Jack's lower back.

"When?"

"October, the doctor says."

Ellie has to wipe the tears of joy with the back of her hand, turning back to the stove when the meat starts to spit and sizzle to check on it. "You rest, Bertha. I've got it under control."

Her boys sit at the table, the sound of their bickering bringing a smile to her face. Bertha interjects every so often, leaving Ellie laughing as she continues to prepare their dinner. It's natural, right. It's like she never left.

She can feel his presence as soon as he leaves his office, pausing at the doorway to look over the station. Every footstep sends her heart racing. The feel of his hand on her lower back nearly makes her jump in surprise and shock. Not once has he touched her in front of his brothers. When he leans in to kiss her on the temple, it's everything she can do not to start crying again. "Smells good, Ell."

* * *

The quiet of the station while she cleans up soothes her. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much at dinner, her stomach sore from laughing so hard. It's as if she never left. The station smells as it always had, a lingering smell of grease from the stove and sweat from the hard work of the brothers, the wafting of Forrest's cigar smoke through the open window. Satisfied with the job she's done, she sits back on her heels with a sigh, wiping the hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. Never had she felt so good about cleaning a thing in her life.

It only takes a few minutes to put everything back in its place before Ellie pads her way out the door to join Forrest on the porch. Her usual jar of applejack is waiting for her beside her chair, Forrest resting his head against the back of his own with a lit cigar in one hand, fingers tracing the rim of his own jar with the other. His lips quirk up when he sees her into his version of a smile, the sight stirring up butterflies in her stomach.

Ellie only hesitates for a moment before ignoring her chair in favor of Forrest's lap, straddling his thighs and her hands resting on his chest. He raises an eyebrow and puts out his cigar, reaching over to grab the jar that he brought out just for her. Her heart is hammering, she can already feel him starting to harden beneath her and it's like electricity is sparking over her skin. Forrest unscrews the lid for her before handing her the liquor, their eyes locked as she takes a long swig. He reaches over and squeezes her side, the heat of his hands soaking through the fabric of her dress. One more swig and she hands him the jar back. But nothing will break his gaze. Slowly, deliberately, he screws the lid back on and places the jar on the table.

The tension is thick. She feels like she should say something, anything. "Forrest-"

He silences her with a growl and a kiss, both hands on her hips and pulling her forward on his lap until their hips are aligned. The night, while already hot, becomes nearly oppressive as his lips move against hers. Ellie runs her fingers through his hair, Forrest breaking the kiss to groan at the feel of it. It's as soft as she remembers, and apparently affects him just the same as it always did because he thrusts his hips until she can feel his erection pressing against her core through her panties. The shift in his body rocks her forward until her forehead is resting against his, her breath on his lips as he does it again, drawing out a strangled moan from Ellie.

Forrest runs his hands up her torso, cupping her breasts for a moment before resting on either side of her neck, her hair tangled in his fingers as he whispers her name. Whimpers escape with every grind of her hips, every thrust of his, until they're both panting. But their foreheads continue to touch, both of their hands roaming as they remember each other again. It's the new and the old, memory and whispers of the unfamiliar. His lips are warm and wet, tasting of tobacco and liquor and it is the sweetest thing that has ever been slicked on her tongue. It is the closest to release he's ever brought her without actually touching her sex and she thinks she might pass out from the intensity of it all

She moves to start to unbutton her dress but Forrest catches her hands, shaking his head slightly before tilting his lips up to kiss her again. "Upstairs."

It takes her a minute to slow her breath enough to speak. "Then what the hell are you waiting for? Take me to your bed."

Ellie all but melts when he corrects her. "Our bed."

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**A/N - You guys have been amazing at the support and reviews and love and gentle pushes to get another chapter done. I cannot tell you how much it meant to me when my life was in disarray or how much it still means to me now. Please review, subscribe, recommend, cry. You know, whatever floats your boat.**


	23. Chapter 23

Forrest lays her down softly, not even touching her at first, just drinking her in. Even in the dim light she can see the love reflected in his eyes. It's a look is so intense that it feels like it's burning into her skin, searing his name into her flesh. She is his, no one else's.

Tentatively she reaches one hand to cup his cheek, but he catches it before she can reach his face. He places it back on the mattress but over her head, his fingers trailing down the sensitive skin on the underside of her arm. It is the ghost of a touch, a mere whisper, yet it is still enough to set her on fire.

In the back of her mind she wants to place her arm back down at her side but he is holding her in place with his stare alone, his hands continuing their slow re-exploration of her body. She had missed his calloused fingers, the way that they could be so gentle in one moment and demanding the next. The care that he took with her, the way that he gave her so much and asked for so little. To be in his bed again, their bed, is so overwhelming that tears start to leak out.

"Ell-" Forrest starts, his hands stopping their light brushing to cup her face, wipe away the tears that are falling. "What is it, what's wrong?"

Slowly she shakes her head, nuzzling into his hand until she can kiss his palm. "For once, nothing," she whispers, her eyes closing as he continues to stroke her cheek. "I love you, Forrest. You were exactly what I needed when I was too lost to know what I needed most. You're my everything."

She didn't realize it was possible that his eyes could soften even more but they do, his gaze so tender that it's all she can do to stop from crying again as her heart swells. "My Ellie, my sweet Ell," he breathes before leaning in to kiss her.

Her fingers immediately seek out his hair, tears continuing to fall as the slow burn of need starts to make itself known in her body. She wants to feel closer to him, to become one, to do what they have never done. The nightmares over James had faded long ago, Forrest the only one taking up residence in her dreams. Ellie is ready. It's not a need to forget or an effort to escape reality anymore. It's pure desire to give everything over to him, to be completely vulnerable and trust him fully to take care of her like he always has.

"Forrest-" she breathes, her eyes closing as his fingers move to the buttons on her dress. Slowly he opens it, a long exhale passing between his lips, like she is the gift that he's been wanting to unwrap for months.

"I ever tell you," he begins, his fingers trailing over the sensitive skin of her stomach, resting his hand between her breasts as her breathing starts to fall heavier. "How much I love my name on your lips?" Forrest moves to cup each breast, leaning over to take each nipple in his mouth as her body starts to writhe. It is everything she remembers but so much more, more intense, more loving, more meaningful. "Say it again?" he asks as he sits upright again, the backs of two fingers running across her lower abdomen and starting to bury under the elastic of her underwear.

It releases from her lips as a breathy moan, a plea. He is slowly building up the tension, her desire for him mounting higher than she had ever experienced, her need to have him slowly consuming her. She has to ask, before he brings her so high that rational thought leaves her. "Forrest," she breathes again, her hips moving to meet his fingers as they go lower into her underwear. Ellie reaches up to cup his face, tugging at him gently until his face is level with hers. "Forrest, make me yours."

* * *

_She tries to lift her chin to kiss him but he pulls back instead, his eyes searching hers for any hesitation, any fear or need for an escape. Her cheeks are flushed, lips slightly swollen as she breathes deeply. His name alone on her lips after so long is nearly enough to undo him as he pulls back to look at her, search the blue eyes that have held him in their power for too long to count now. As long as he had kept her up in Blackwater, there had always been a weight on her shoulders or fear in her eyes. A kind of pervasive sadness that leaked into her personality so subtly that she likely didn't even realize it herself. _

_Now, he senses none of it. No fear, no need to feel whole or unbroken. It is nothing but love that is illuminating her eyes, a need for him and him alone. Not to run from anything but to be fully present with him. Nothing that feels empty and begging to be filled. Pure love and devotion. It is enough to make his own eyes water as he leans in to kiss her._

_A small part of him still hesitates, still doubts. He is still afraid that he may take advantage of her. But Forrest learned his lesson about making decisions for his Ell. He's seen the way she carries herself now, proud again but this time, for being her own woman. Her confidence has grown, her certainty. If she feels ready enough to say that, with the look in her eyes that she carries now, he will give her exactly what they both have desired for so long._

_Gently he tugs her underwear down her legs, wanting to take his time, enjoy it for every moment they lost from his pigheadedness. He savors the feel of her creamy skin beneath his palm, the way that it nearly flushes once his hand passes over it and the way Ellie reacts to his every touch. Slowly he tugs at the fabric until her panties are at her feet, taking a moment to kiss the inside of an ankle before removing her last piece of clothing._

_Seeing her laid out before him, completely vulnerable but for her trust in him, naked and breathing deeply is enough to make him have to adjust himself. He's surprised when Ellie sits up, her hands sliding over his shoulders to slowly pull his cardigan down his arms and off. She helps him to undress, each movement punctuated by soft kisses that gradually turn more urgent, her lips brushing against his collarbones, chest, shoulders, every inch of skin she can reach. Ellie takes the opportunity to explore his skin same as he did hers, memorizing the way he feels beneath her touch. The way his muscles tense and loosen beneath them, the hard and the soft of his body. Forrest stops her when she reaches to remove his own underwear, gently encircling her wrists and pushing back until she is lying down yet again._

_His name leaves her lips again, the mere sound enough to make him shudder. This is the first time she has ever willingly given herself over to a man. He wants to erase the memory of James, make this the moment she lost her virginity, and make it memorable and beautiful._

_He settles his torso between her legs, his fingers tracing unknown designs into the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Ellie is already starting to move her hips in desperation, her own need only pushing his own to a higher level. Licking his lips he dips his head between her thighs, her taste on his tongue for the first time in far too long. "Still sweet, just like a peach," Forrest murmurs to himself before going in for another taste._

_The way she squirms beneath him, her breathing turning into pants and moans and little whimpers. Her fingers in his hair, or the way her thighs are already starting to tremble. How wet she is when he slides a finger inside, crooking it and rubbing in time with his tongue. Her musk, her taste, the way she sounds and smells and feels. It all overwhelms his senses, unintentional growls vibrating through his chest at every buck of her hips or noise she makes. Ellie is growing close beneath his efforts quickly, he can tell in the way she is starting to squeeze at his finger. So he stops and moves up her torso to lean in for a kiss._

* * *

She wants to scream when he stops, her hands fisted in the sheets, not so much breathing anymore as pleading with each exhale. Her taste is on his lips as he kisses her, silencing any effort she may have made to beg him to continue. Instead she grips at his shoulders, neck, face as he continues to move his mouth against hers.

It is only when she feels something gently prodding at her entrance that she realizes he's somehow managed to take his underwear off without her noticing. Buried deep inside her is a seed of fear. "Will it hurt?" Ellie's surprised to find how small her voice is. This is what she wants, craves, needs, her hips moving on their own accord at being brought so close to the brink and Forrest stopping.

"If it does, you tell me and I'll stop." She closes her eyes as she nods her consent, unconsciously tensing up in anticipation. "Look at me, my sweet Ell."

Slowly she opens her eyes, the blue of hers meeting the grey of his. Her heart flutters. No matter how long they are together, she's not sure she'll ever get over the way he looks at her now. Forrest leans in to kiss her as he pushes forward slightly, the head of his penis lining up with her own entrance.

Forrest holds still for a moment, breaking the kiss so that he can look at her again. "I love you, Ell. More than I thought possible."

She whispers the words back, her heart fluttering in her chest and stomach dropping at the heat in his stare. A short nod and he's gently penetrating her, pushing slowly should she show any indication of pain, his eyes never leaving hers. It's uncomfortable at first, such an unfamiliar thing to her still. But at the same time, joining with Forrest like this makes her feel complete. Makes them feel complete.

There's a sharp intake of breath from them both as he becomes fully seated, Ellie closing her eyes to enjoy her first true intimate experience with sex. The love she feels for Forrest in that moment makes her think that she never truly knew what it meant.

He holds himself inside her and suddenly she's feeling his fingers on the little pearl that drives her insane. Still on edge from his mouth on her, she bucks towards his touch, the subtle shift of him inside her as she moves drawing out a long moan. His fingers always felt amazing, always. But this … she's not sure she'll ever be able to describe this. Forrest is insistent with his touch, rubbing in circles as he holds still. Her own movements are the only thing that adjusts the way he feels inside her, her hips chasing his touch as the tension coils in her muscles, begging for release.

Forrest pulls out just to sink back into her again, his fingers never stopping their movement. And at that single thrust she explodes, chest lifting off the bed and her eyes tearing at the intensity of the feeling pulsing through her. He continues his slow thrusts, each subtle movement making her quiver and drawing out more pleasure than she knew possible. His name falls from her lips over and over, and she's unsure if it's for praise or pleading.

He leans over to kiss her again, halting the movement of his own hips. But before his lips can reach hers she's already begging him to continue, wanting more of what is now only pure pleasure to her. And so he continues, long and deep thrusts drawing out noises Ellie didn't know she could make, her arms wrapped around his body and mouth trying to hold onto his as they continue to move against each other.

Ellie has never felt so close with him, so connected as when they're moving together as one. Grabbing onto his hair, she pulls him into a desperate kiss, his body bringing her to the brink yet again with his slow and steady thrusts. "More," she whispers, the plea in her voice evident.

Forrest obliges her, the sensations sending static into her fingers and toes and she never wants this feeling to stop, the pleasure, the love, the closeness. She'll never want anything or anyone else in her entire life. His own breath is coming faster as he quickens the pace even more at her reactions, his gaze fiery as he holds her stare. "Let go, Ell. Let go with me."

It is pure energy that slams into her body as she comes with him, his harsh erratic, thrusts making her cry out in pleasure. And then he's kissing her, the sweat from his chest and forehead mingling with her own, their breath gradually slowing back to normal again. He hovers over her for a little longer, propping himself up so that he can keep staring into her eyes. "You alright, Ell?"

A giggle escapes as she lifts her chin to kiss him again. "I think I'm a little more than alright, Forrest." That's when it happens. The most dazzling smile she has ever seen him make. It's not just the corners of his mouth twitching up into the approximation of one, it's not a chuckle that brings a little lightness to his face. It is a full smile, teeth and everything. And Ellie can't help but return it.

He heaves onto his back with a sigh, immediately pulling her head to his chest so that he can run his fingers through her hair. She's a little shy to say it, but she does anyway, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him as she blushes. "Can we do that again?"

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**A/N - Almost to the end now, gang. One more chapter left. *pauses for collective awwww* The good news is that I do already have a sequel swimming around in my head, so this may not be the end for Forrest and Ellie. Please please pretty please please review.**


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